glazenerd Posted August 6, 2016 Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 Interesting to see how each aspect of clay affects the poem. I can tell who throws, who casts, and even who does functional ware. Apparently "slop" is viewed in a negative light, as is wedging. Imaginative bunch you are. I am rather fond of green eggs and ham by the way. Just confirms my belief that expression will find its way out of a creative soul; rather it be clay, paint, wood, or poetry. Besides, good way to DE-stress in the middle of the summer production season. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Evelyne Schoenmann Posted August 6, 2016 Author Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 I am miffed now.... Flowerdry got rid of my contribution for the community poem .... grumble grumble grumble Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 6, 2016 Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 Evelyne: Flower exercised "poetic license" which allows freedom of interpretation. The good news is, you have the same license. Actually that is what poetic pottery is all about: injecting poetic license into form and glaze. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ChenowethArts Posted August 6, 2016 Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 Evelyne: Flower exercised "poetic license" which allows freedom of interpretation. The good news is, you have the same license. Actually that is what poetic pottery is all about: injecting poetic license into form and glaze. Nerd I just knew someone would get all 'legal' on us. To wit, @glazenerd, which should we have?: Personal Porcelanic Poetry Permit Raku Rhyme Rights Alumina Alliteration Allowance Slop-py Sonnet Syntax Sanction Inquiring minds want to know *snicker*, -Paul Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Joseph Fireborn Posted August 6, 2016 Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 This thread has made me laugh and smile a lot. Good stuff! You people are talented, if you get too old to make pots, you definitely can write poems for a living... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 6, 2016 Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 There is that "old" word again- off with your batt!!! Paul: I have referred your question to our legal department. I am sure Dowee, Throwem, and Howe will know. You did however forget about the; Stoneware Sonnet Survey. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Min Posted August 6, 2016 Report Share Posted August 6, 2016 perhaps it’s the heat my brain like sausage meat that makes me quite odd alas to the kiln shed i plod load in the pots my sciatic nerve now in knots program the firing kiln gremlins conspiring? then back to the wheel that holds most appeal till i make a mess of it that i can do lickety split must remember to mop the floor, a chore i adore no mess in my space! said with a poker face i'm starting to think, said with a nod and a wink i have a screw loose hmm, glaze chemical abuse? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 Min:..that hit my funny bone-very good! Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GiselleNo5 Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 Min, that was HILARIOUS. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ayjay Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 My attempt at something akin to a Haiku. Behold the red pot I gave it all I could and still it's brown. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 AyJay: I am actually familiar with that ancient Japanese writing form. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
karenkstudio Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 I finally did a search on EE Lewis, and all that came up was Jerry Lee Lewis which directed me to a you tube video of "Great Balls of Fire". Might be appropriate for Raku or woof fire. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
karenkstudio Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 Nerd Who is EE Lewis? I finally did a search on EE Lewis, and all that came up was Jerry Lee Lewis which directed me to a you tube video of "Great Balls of Fire". Might be appropriate for music Raku or wood fire. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 "Twas brilling, and the slighty tow did wither in the way---- Jaberwocky.. by Carol Lewis. Have not read it since 9th grade, but still remember it. Apparently I only remembered half his name however. Sorry 9th grade is closing in on 50 years ago. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Magnolia Mud Research Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 I think it was Cummings: or was it Goings? LT Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chilly Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 by Carol Lewis. Lewis Carroll Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 Nothing like mild dyslexia: ty Chilly. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chilly Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 Nothing like mild dyslexia: ty Chilly. Nerd Or as one of my friends calls it dylsexier Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Pres Posted August 7, 2016 Report Share Posted August 7, 2016 Just a quick offering. When I was much younger, I learned to throw. Worked forever trying to get the clay to center you know, then even longer to make the sidewalls grow. The years went by, and older I grew, but my poor throwing skills did a little too. I picked up a little about glazes, and tool making along the way, all in the pursuit of working with clay. I taught others my craft, while the years continued on, and they learned some and taught me more. Some went on following as I had before, becoming teachers, and potters adding to the score. I make pots, big and small, fat and tall some for service, and some for the ball. While I am never settled, always questing, I begin to wonder if I should be resting. Time is wasting, and my years are long Teaching is never over, even today the message is the same though the classroom is no longer, it is still about the clay. Tomorrow brings another day of work, and fun, working with the clay. Questions and solutions are part of my day, how to approach them others may say. That is part of the wonder, of working today. Help is often only a keyboard away. So when my journey comes to an end and my fingers no longer will bend, remember my moments, among the best of friends. best, Pres Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 8, 2016 Report Share Posted August 8, 2016 Pres - very well written: crafted with the same care as your clay. Historical, personal, and a tale of growth. You have to throw a poem the same way you throw a pot. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Pres Posted August 8, 2016 Report Share Posted August 8, 2016 Thank you glazenerd. . . every once in a while. best, PRes Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Denice Posted August 8, 2016 Report Share Posted August 8, 2016 Very nice Pres makes my quicky poem look lame. Denice Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Pres Posted August 8, 2016 Report Share Posted August 8, 2016 Dear Denice, Not to make one look lame, but words to tame. The feelings was yours; the words fit the same. I find trimming a pain, and your words fit the name. In the end each their own, messages knit and sewn. We value each and the way they teach! best, Pres Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LeeU Posted August 9, 2016 Report Share Posted August 9, 2016 CLAY, MY WAY Art is not therapy, my instructor said. (Hell it isn’t, it’s why I’m not dead.) I ignore the man and just plug on, tho I detour a lot – long dusk, long dawn. Now back to the business of art as life I finally shed all the old strife. Little wheel, spin and spin Please help my porcelain to pull up thin. But no it is not to be, my throwing rates barely a C. So back to the work table as I sing along with the music that I play; it seems to help me find my way. I honor the blocks of earthy delight As I cut and wedge, and then I strike. With my hands I rip and tear and I leave the marks all over the ware. Rough and strange and a little bit chancy I do it my way ‘cuz it suits my fancy. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 9, 2016 Report Share Posted August 9, 2016 LeeU: therapeutic poetry: I think most of us pour our emotions into our work. Your poem did however remind me of some thoughts I had about clay therapy. My niece's son is autistic: very reactive to sensory stimulus. I often wondered how he would react to the touch of clay? Also wondered if any have used clay in therapy settings for autistic kids? I have gone through your gallery: you have a very unique expression in your forms: enjoyed viewing them. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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