Yesterday morning was a rare magical time. My wife who has morphed over time from teacher to potter with child bearing between, now has a hive of creativity all her own.
Between our elliptical routines hers ending mine to begin, we trotted out to the studio. She has been six years learning gas fire technique but this was the first high fire with the electric kiln.
Hours on the wheel, trimming, low fire to allow new glazes brushed on, then loading the multi-shelved oven. A bit like Christmas morning, having to wait over 38 hours for the glazes to meld to the ceramic, then allow the bricks to cool and crack the lid into the unknown.
How many pieces survived, any cracks, bubbling? Better yet, the new depth of color and patterns all seen for the first time. This may be better than Christmas.