The hideous torture of choosing the wrong glaze

I’ve been a terrible potter this week. It’s glazing week for my vases and I find this process agonizing, so much so that I’ve rinsed a total of 7 layers of glaze off a vessel.

Wasted glaze and clogged pipes aside, I’m struggling to let go. I have a vision for each pot, and I feel it to be an injustice not to see it through. My problem, among being a control freak and a perfectionist, is that I’m not well versed in glaze. I’ve made no test tiles, which was my first mistake, and I’m starting as if from scratch, struggling to trust the process.

If you’re new to ceramics, a vessel goes through a few stages before it becomes the piece you bring home from the shop.

First it is created from wet clay, then dried completely before it is fired into bisque. Some sculptural potters leave it here, and some glaze their work for effect and to waterproof or strengthen their vessel. Without glaze, water seeps through and the object is much more fragile. Think terracotta plant pots that crack at the slightest bump. After glazing and a second, higher firing in the kiln, ceramic pots are much sturdier and in some cases water-tight.

Glazes change the surface of an object. They can enhance the clay that is there, or cover it completely.

My desire is to enhance the earth with which I work, but I’m not well versed in glazes to know the difference from one to the other. Most potters are patient. They make test tiles. They take their time.

I am no such potter.

And so 7 layers of wasted glaze later, I am staring at a vessel, praying I’ve made the right choice.

A white crackle glaze that all but exploded when I opened the pot sits upon my favourite vase.

After cleaning my work surface (and surrounding vases that fell victim to the explosion ), I got to work slathering the too-thick liquid onto my favourite vase, only for it to crackle off minutes later. Turns out this glaze needs to be watered down before applicators. Cue my internal screaming.

I cannot tell you how frustrating the process went for me today, but I am new to glazing, and this is all part of learning. Or so I tell myself.

After some alchemy I finally got the glaze a paintable texture. I slathered it on successfully and now the vessel is drying in my kitchen. The emotional rollercoaster of today is embarrassing, but I am pushing forward.

I remind myself that not everything is straight forward nor can it be perfect — but I don’t accept my words, even as I write them here today. I want things to be excellent and easy. I want creativity to flow smoothly. And it does. After some practice, it always does.

Today was some practice. A day that reminded me to take it as it comes. To make some fucking test tiles before slathering glaze after glaze upon my pot.

Now that it’s over with, and I’ve vowed never to buy crackle glaze again, I’m moving forward with slip-glazing; using wet, fluid clay to enhance a dried vessel — a process I’m much more familiar with and find rewarding at the end of a tedious day.