tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33137994438198544062024-03-13T09:41:25.778-07:00John BaumanMusings from 40 years as a potter.John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.comBlogger589125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-66785581840577950572020-07-20T12:51:00.003-07:002020-07-20T12:51:59.432-07:00Legacy Tools<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mOijUbmkMB8/XxX1WOcD1iI/AAAAAAAAF_0/HfmL9jpXBA8Cg-jH76PsxZjIZnKB0SiUACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/wedge3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1168" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mOijUbmkMB8/XxX1WOcD1iI/AAAAAAAAF_0/HfmL9jpXBA8Cg-jH76PsxZjIZnKB0SiUACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/wedge3.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><i>"If you don't have a wedging table, you don't have a pottery shop"</i> -Me</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;">
Back in 1978, my friend (and at that time, employer) Doug Hively moved
from Winona Lake, IN to Salem, Oregon. When he did, he left behind
a wedging table -- the first official piece of pottery making equipment
to become part of my shop.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"> At that point, I still didn't have a
wheel, a kiln, or even my first ton of clay. I had yet to finish
building my 8'X16' shop (in a trailer park).</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"> But I had a wedging table.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;">
The way this wedging table looked when Doug left it to me, it was
simply four 2"X6" legs holding up a 2"X4", plywood-bottom frame that was
then filled with plaster.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"> It was maybe ten years later, I added
supports because the legs were wobbly. Some short time after that I
remodeled it. I cut off the legs by 5" so that I could then put it up on
wheels. That allowed me to move it around the shop if I wanted, but
also allowed me to box in the bottom with plywood, and still have room
for my feet to go under it while I was wedging.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"> The cut off wire
is a guitar string strung between two screws that I bored through. One
screw stays stationary, embedded in one of the wooden uprights. The
guitar string's ball stops at it. The other screw is in the opposite
wooden upright and tightens the guitar string as it is screwed in.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;">
My old cat, Hobie, used to sort of "bleat" whenever clay passed through
that guitar string causing it to twang. I never new if she was singing
along or complaining.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"> Today I fixed the plaster and put a new canvas on the old girl. She should be good for another forty years.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-si1o_KB2Lrs/XxX1rdZs7II/AAAAAAAAF_8/Squ6HOdiSocgH8jz6IR-UGamQaCTEwnjgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/wedge1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1282" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-si1o_KB2Lrs/XxX1rdZs7II/AAAAAAAAF_8/Squ6HOdiSocgH8jz6IR-UGamQaCTEwnjgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/wedge1.jpg" width="249" /></a></div>
</div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-22263736494416193992020-06-12T04:35:00.000-07:002020-06-20T02:50:54.895-07:00Mutts and Glazes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W317cQyqzLU/XuNoLIARtTI/AAAAAAAAF-o/moXmyQXLgsEqyTlTgkBLfL2o9DMRl6gOACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/soda%2Bash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W317cQyqzLU/XuNoLIARtTI/AAAAAAAAF-o/moXmyQXLgsEqyTlTgkBLfL2o9DMRl6gOACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/soda%2Bash.jpg" width="312" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Legacy chemicals. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I inherited this box of soda ash from my
friend, Dave, when he made his final move to FL. It's marked: "Sugar
Creek Art Products" -- a company that hasn't been around in more than 30
years (maybe 40). </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I finally broke into the box yesterday to
mix up a shino glaze. Some of the soda ash has petrified into stones
that would have required mechanical breakdown (they'd need to be re-crushed)
in order to be incorporated into a glaze. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
As I screened and re-screened the glaze, I ended up with rocks I had to
throw out. I then re-introduced more soda ash by guessing how much I
had thrown out in the rocks.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I'll probably end up with a mutt glaze.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> "Mutt glaze". </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
That's not a bad thing. I've noticed that some of the most remarkable
dogs I've known in my life -- both by their beauty and their behavior --
have been mutts. And each time I noticed such mutts -- whether the
"Tippy" I grew up with, or the "Bear" I met recently on the trails -- I
couldn't help but sense the bittersweet nature of such a dog. That is:
there's no duplicating it. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> The mutt is a treasure....but once gone, you can never again have it.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Oh, I get it. No dog is duplicate-able. But at least a breed will put us in the ballpark of looks and behavior. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> But a mutt is its own unique being, so often for the better.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
I hope this mutt glaze I created yesterday is more than I hoped for.
If it is, I'll name it "Tippy" and enjoy every pot I make with it.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-33415272058304124492020-06-06T09:36:00.001-07:002020-06-06T09:36:16.406-07:00The Table<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-seZmYMwB8jc/XtvFhdMa9HI/AAAAAAAAF-M/krYk-hjS_8g0tSY9xc8U7Br0nKgA4tTWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/worktable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-seZmYMwB8jc/XtvFhdMa9HI/AAAAAAAAF-M/krYk-hjS_8g0tSY9xc8U7Br0nKgA4tTWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/worktable.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Troy
is the guy who welded up my kiln frame and a half dozen ware carts.
Nearly 30 years ago I had him weld me 16 corners of 3" angle iron
drilled to thread bolts into. They are made to affix to 4"X4" posts as
legs, and those are used to create sturdy worktables. I have two of
them in the shop and I have had this one outside the shop for nearly 30
years now.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> This old table has seen a few million dollars worth of
pottery ground, tagged, and boxed in preparation for art fairs over the years. It
stands at the back of the shop on a wide concrete apron beneath a 40
foot maple tree. It's a wonderful outdoor workspace in the summertime.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
But we learned as soon as we put it up that the dogs all loved it too.
When they were young they could easily leap up onto it. When Bear (our
first) got older, I built him steps so he could still access it. It
allowed the dogs a view into the shop through the window above it, and a
vantage point to stand sentry over the back yard. It also provided a
nice bit of shade to nap under with the cool concrete adding comfort.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
As you can see, it's finally rotted away. Today I disassembled it
(Keeping the angle iron corners and the post/legs). The table is now a
pile of ashes. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It's an odd thing to feel sentimental about, isn't it?</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1BjYpozmBqY/XtvF87cWaqI/AAAAAAAAF-U/_yiyQIaCVkUrmR1EyGnbStdZhFQhPr7cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/dadnson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1001" data-original-width="1001" height="319" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1BjYpozmBqY/XtvF87cWaqI/AAAAAAAAF-U/_yiyQIaCVkUrmR1EyGnbStdZhFQhPr7cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/dadnson.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-33577850448626079312020-05-31T13:24:00.001-07:002020-05-31T13:24:19.671-07:00Gates and Keepers<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRKi9lauezc/XtQSY-sxhjI/AAAAAAAAF98/pwJ-PQRkm38XB6n-hz4HQMR6yMXyR6XPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/gate2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="467" height="279" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRKi9lauezc/XtQSY-sxhjI/AAAAAAAAF98/pwJ-PQRkm38XB6n-hz4HQMR6yMXyR6XPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/gate2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span aria-live="polite" class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">To
some degree there have always been both avenues toward success/survival
for all artists/craftsmen who have tried to survive by their
creativity.<br /> <br /> I remember when I met David. I was doing an art
fair in Toledo and though I couldn't see them behind my booth, I could
hear some really good musicians -- a hammered dulcimer and a guitarist
-- who were hired by the art fair to provide ambiance. <br /> <br /> When<span class="text_exposed_show">
they stopped playing and I had no customers, I ventured around behind
my booth and found the two musicians taking a break. I introduced myself
and complimented the guitarist -- David. After some conversation, I
asked him what he did for a living. "Music", he said.<br /> <br /> I felt
kind of silly. I mean, for 15-20 years to that point, I had been making a
living as a potter in a sub-culture, niche market "Wild West" of art
fairs that had developed as a work-around to the twin gatekeepers of
academia and gallery. <br /> <br /> Why it hadn't occurred to me that there
were parallel means of making a living from other creative pursuits and
their gatekeepers, I don't know. Probably because I worshipped the world
of music and the musicians that the gatekeepers of record labels and
radio had presented me. At that point in time I was only a decade or so
into collecting more homemade music and meeting more and more musicians
of a decidedly NOT pop kind. At that point, though, even those musicians
I was learning more about were still the "product" of record labels and
contracts and distribution infrastructure. It was just smaller labels
like Red House, SugarHill, and others.<br /> <br /> But David was completely
independent. He played in (at that point) four different bands, had his
own recording studio, and would accompany just about any musician in
need at a gig or recording studio.<br /> <br /> Now we're all Davids. We're
all finding our own way. Many of our favorite musicians are those we
find on youtube. The Universities told some of our favorite
authors/writers that they weren't any good. Thankfully some of them
were simply obligate writers who couldn't not write. <br /> <br /> In this
digital age the braver among those rejected by academia and publishing
houses took a chance. Even if those educated in our Universities to
have contempt for the simple and the beautiful had rejected them,
perhaps they could cast their bread on the water of the internet and see
if there were any souls among the 4 billion with computers and kindles
and phones out there whom they might touch and be touched by. And they
found us. And we found them.<br /> <br /> There will always be gatekeepers.
And there will always be a majority who will look to them to tell us who
and what we are supposed to like and dislike.<br /> <br /> And there will
always be obligate artists who do what we do. The shift is that there is
now a much broader path around the gatekeepers.<br /> <br /> Sometimes the gatekeepers want a piece of some of those self-made artists, and agreeable deals can be made.</span></span></span></span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-79889177656310187682020-05-04T15:30:00.001-07:002020-05-04T15:30:43.020-07:00Some Handles<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JArvmq4qwKU/XrCXdWuQJVI/AAAAAAAAF9M/j8vD4tGXO2sMS5QZW5jiVW4lS-wkm3LVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/bowls%2Bporcelain%2Bhandles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JArvmq4qwKU/XrCXdWuQJVI/AAAAAAAAF9M/j8vD4tGXO2sMS5QZW5jiVW4lS-wkm3LVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/bowls%2Bporcelain%2Bhandles.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
SOME HANDLES look like the sweater you just got back from your big
sister after she borrowed it. They’re stretched out and worn-looking
before you ever even put them on. You think you can smooth out the
wrinkles or stretch out the bulges, but the more you work at it, the
worse they look.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">SOME HANDLES are a hand offered to shake, but
maybe we feel that shake as a warning: The coming kiss of the rim is
bound to be just as rough as the touch to that hand. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But some
other handles are the hand offered – palm up – that you take into yours
with the promise that you are going to be gently walked -- hand in hand –
to a very pleasant encounter with a waiting rim.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Some lugs are
bugs. Some of those bugs are parasites. Ticks. And like ticks, they
appear to have dropped onto the pot in a seemingly random manner with no
aesthetic consideration of balance or composition. From there they
parasitically and immediately suck the life from an otherwise healthy
pot. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But some lugs are symbiotic, and to those lugs the pots
take a liken. They share the pot’s surface and the whole of the pairing
is greater than the sum of either part. They enhance the glaze in ways
the surface couldn’t have done without them in place. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> SOME
HANDLES were following too closely when the pot in front of them jammed
on the brakes. Sometimes the ensuing wreck is catastrophic. Other
times such a fender bender can create interesting results. Without that
accident we may never have known that the bumper could even fit there.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> SOME HANDLES are like your favorite rich butterscotch topping….on your favorite fettucine. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Alfredo? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Alfraidnot. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Switching metaphors mid-stride here, I have a friend who once told on
her husband, “He came downstairs wearing a plaid shirt over plaid pants.
I asked him ‘Howard, why in the world are you wearing that shirt and
those pants together?’ He answered that they were both his favorites.”
Well, duh. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But I see it with handles all the time. Fettuccini
w/Butterscotch. We like ‘em both. Not so much together. Beautiful
pot. Beautiful handle. Terrible match.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> SOME HANDLES are like….<br />
….Remember that junior high Health Ed book wherein they had a picture
of two stick figure men standing side by side – a big man with a little
fig leaf and a little man with a big fig leaf? So the publishers of the
Health Ed book tried to make it clear (bless their hearts), much to the
relief of a few 7th grade boys, that size doesn’t matter.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But it does with handles. And proportion means even more.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
SOME HANDLES are invited by their pot to a seat at the table. In the
case of these handles, the pots exhibit a concave to which a handle
might offer a convex echo. Those pots have an empty visual space
inviting a handle to fill it. And for their part, the handles observe
the formality of the setting with its full complement of silverware
paraded in its proper place, the linen napkin, the china plate – and
those handles shape themselves into the proper dressy attire before
sitting down to dinner….</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ….Or maybe the handle observes a casual
setting and therefore adopts a more easy-going style. Either way, the
handle wasn’t an afterthought. The pot was made with the handle ever in
mind. The invitation was sent, the handle arrived in time and in
place.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Some handles have nice pots attached to them.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-14234893639264759782020-05-02T15:49:00.002-07:002020-05-02T15:49:35.651-07:00Framing<span class="mrs fsm fwn fcg"><span id="fbPhotoSnowliftTimestampAudienceContainer"></span></span><br />
<div id="fbPhotoSnowliftAudienceSelector">
<div class="mbs fbPhotosAudienceContainerEditable _1jam">
<div class="_6a _g4r _43_1 _3iio _20np _21o- _fol">
<div class="_6a uiPopover" id="u_jsonp_16_h">
<a aria-expanded="false" aria-haspopup="true" aria-label="Shared with Public" class="_42ft _4jy0 _55pi _5vto _55_p _2agf _4o_4 _401v _p _1zg8 _3m8n _4jy3 _517h _51sy _59pe" data-hover="tooltip" data-tooltip-content="Public" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10216045177862616&set=pb.1244130897.-2207520000..&type=3&theater#" id="u_jsonp_16_i" rel="toggle" role="button" style="max-width: 26px;"><span class="_4o_3"></span></a></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<span id="fbPhotoSnowliftExpiration"></span><span id="fbPhotoSnowliftBlock"></span><br />
<span id="fbPhotoSnowliftViewOnApp"></span><span id="fbPhotoSnowliftUseApp"></span><div class="_xlr">
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoContext" id="fbPhotoSnowliftContext"></span><span aria-live="polite" class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5eadf7bf341fa8887736531">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fn1TK50zYsM/Xq344Ax-0TI/AAAAAAAAF84/_hxaJKahYcQMGKCL_-naTFWyNDaP5LHsgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/framing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fn1TK50zYsM/Xq344Ax-0TI/AAAAAAAAF84/_hxaJKahYcQMGKCL_-naTFWyNDaP5LHsgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/framing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5eadf7bf341fa8887736531">
</div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5eadf7bf341fa8887736531">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Framing</span></span> <span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /> 1. Framing (construction), common carpentry work<br /> 2. Framing (law), providing false evidence or testimony to prove someone guilty of a crime<br />
3. Framing (social sciences) a set of concepts and theoretical
perspectives on how individuals, groups, and societies, organize,
perceive, and communicate about reality. <span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> 4. Framing (visual arts), a technique used to bring the focus to the subject<br /> 5. Framing (World Wide Web), a technique using multiple panes within a web page.<br /> <br />
I woke up early this morning. At 3:40 AM (that's "3:40
ayem-in-the-morning" if you're a Hoosier) I awoke with a start. The
chilling fear that I might have left 20 porcelain mugs open to the
heated air of the shop last night popped me out of bed faster than the
sound of a hairball retching cat.<br /> <br /> That's fast. Abrupt, even.<br /> <br />
So, after making coffee I've been out in the shop (turns out I did
remember to cover the mugs after all) and I've been watching a series of
very inspirational potter's videos -- all stirred up on a perpetual
youtube playlist by initially following <a data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100005287025539&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCDCbsm33TAVu2l4mPOSTQ2rqvxWUJV6xKmBuYUllkhbn75RowhhK4Z7qofR5wpHMUKCLp9U2Y7Y2ms%22%2C%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22groups_location%22%3Anull%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/cary.hulin?__tn__=%2CdK%2AF-R&eid=ARCDCbsm33TAVu2l4mPOSTQ2rqvxWUJV6xKmBuYUllkhbn75RowhhK4Z7qofR5wpHMUKCLp9U2Y7Y2ms">Cary Hulin</a>'s link to a Svend Bayer video.<br /> <br /> Because I was watching the videos one right after the other I began to notice the framing: <br /> <br /> Contemporary MTV-style cropped imagery that made even a plastic tub of water seem somehow as pastoral as a Millet painting.<br /> <br /> Eerie, emotion-stirring instrumental musical accompaniment to the video imagery.<br /> <br />
Disembodied narrative, well-rehearsed. Phrases from the canon of
sayings that potters have rehearsed, repeated, and handed down from
potter to potter in our family since the time I first ever touched
spinning clay. <br /> <br /> ... Phrases so well-used that -- like the old
joke about the comedian's convention -- we could simply attach numbers
to in order to save time in the re-telling.<br /> <br /> But I wouldn't want
to save that time. I want to hear the stories. The phrases. I like
to hear them told over and over and over. They are like hymns. <br /> <br /> "Today we will be reading from Leach. Turn if you will to page 77. 'It seems reasonable to expect that beauty......"<br /> <br /> I know the hymns. I know the stories. I still love to hear them anyway. They inspire me.<br /> <br /> And a few contemporary creative souls are adding to that hymnbook: <a aria-describedby="u_49_1" aria-owns="" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1002602426&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARC4_DJfmVENI4ktxRSVSyRlR6ppg-SkIvsqY6axSAErI2bXqLwR0JMfSDNIqRLL1Hvqab4igrpwWciq%22%2C%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22groups_location%22%3Anull%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/dick.lehman.9?__tn__=%2CdK%2AF-R&eid=ARC4_DJfmVENI4ktxRSVSyRlR6ppg-SkIvsqY6axSAErI2bXqLwR0JMfSDNIqRLL1Hvqab4igrpwWciq" id="js_4ws">Dick Lehman</a>, <a data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1145194014&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARBuZ_gi_v3ntlA-JwqAMlIuh7dnWQY68PsdLqPW9SkDw3Wp989HqeS3ull2I6t0IkXmtEfdxnul-C2X%22%2C%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22groups_location%22%3Anull%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/tony.clennell?__tn__=%2CdK%2AF-R&eid=ARBuZ_gi_v3ntlA-JwqAMlIuh7dnWQY68PsdLqPW9SkDw3Wp989HqeS3ull2I6t0IkXmtEfdxnul-C2X">Tony Clennell</a>, <a data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100009466231688&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCBDFlLMOCpxTsfd6i6RSBTILn4mmpDz_rvgGMgInUGY8_sKQjiV7mfyLSo9ZFisJmYNje-eRWwTJtN%22%2C%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22groups_location%22%3Anull%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/TomandElaineColeman?__tn__=%2CdK%2AF-R&eid=ARCBDFlLMOCpxTsfd6i6RSBTILn4mmpDz_rvgGMgInUGY8_sKQjiV7mfyLSo9ZFisJmYNje-eRWwTJtN">Tom Coleman</a>,
to name a few. Souls generous enough to take the time to explain what
they're thinking as they're doing it so that I might approach what I am
doing in a more inspired way.<br /> <br /> Well, in typical fashion, I couldn't wait to interrupt myself with that rabbit trail. But back to the subject: <br /> <br /> Framing.<br /> <br /> The videos reminded me that the framing isn't the work. (see definitions 3 and 4 above)<br /> <br />
I remember the first time I took a pot out of the frame of its
presentation and brought it home -- only to discover that I had been
seduced by the frame and not the pot.<br /> <br /> For the longest time I
wondered -- beyond timing and marketing concerns -- why I didn't like to
enter my pots into exhibitions with other potters. It's because in
doing so I lost control of the framing. I don't like to lose that
control.<br /> <br /> Upon that self-discovery, I began to realize that it
belied a lack of confidence in the work alone. If forfeiting the power
of framing bothered me so much, it was a tacit admission that I thought
the work inherently weak.<br /> <br /> I don't know where that introspection
has left me, but I'm forever conscious of trying (even if mostly
failing) to make pots strong enough that they need neither the
additional support of framing, nor the excuse of explanation.<br /> <br /> Maybe.</span></span></span></div>
</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-19638598428246733012020-04-10T07:21:00.005-07:002020-04-10T07:21:54.212-07:00Someone Wrote Me A Kind Letter<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_1m6">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0a7B4IJzw9A/XpCAvazPWTI/AAAAAAAAF8Q/M86HoXeBeNwUOHAaiGrjvnt-oZ-g-UUcgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/squash2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="399" height="318" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0a7B4IJzw9A/XpCAvazPWTI/AAAAAAAAF8Q/M86HoXeBeNwUOHAaiGrjvnt-oZ-g-UUcgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/squash2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank
you so much for your order, but especially for your note. At this
particular time, you have no idea how much your words mean to me. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
We potters have formed quite a community over the years. Our
interdependence was only made easier as I find so many of our number to
be such engaging, friendly, and interesting people.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> On some
level I think we potters are at least vaguely aware of the anachronistic
nature of our craft/art . It's a dangerous game we play to have our
livelihoods tied to the production of something that folks don't
actually need to buy in order to survive.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Except that they do. They do need what we make. They do need beauty.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
And we hold steadfastly (if foolishly) to the conviction that the human
condition requires creative input that transcends the merely
functional, the merely utilitarian.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We haven't been proven wrong
yet, though with each wave of change, each demographic shift, each
cultural transition that brings a different vision to the fore and
marginalizes another in its wake, we have our fears.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Mostly, we
know that come what may, we need to be creative. We need to make
objects. In that human game of juggling our need for significance and
our need for security -- ever striving to keep both aloft, we always
drop a ball or two.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But we pick them back up again. It's who we seem to be.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-47527436182654191922019-12-27T11:37:00.001-08:002019-12-27T11:37:14.697-08:00Vocation <span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bkJPWKq0SrA/XgZdWbBqBaI/AAAAAAAAF50/pimhg_uuP1s_4-tgOM08hnbL3SBvjj3xACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/shepherd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="800" height="184" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bkJPWKq0SrA/XgZdWbBqBaI/AAAAAAAAF50/pimhg_uuP1s_4-tgOM08hnbL3SBvjj3xACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/shepherd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The LORD is my shepherd; I am a collie</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> He maketh me to lie
down in green pastures. When he says “Down, Laddie. Down” I obey.
Sometimes mid-run. Sometimes more willingly than other times because
moving the flock is my passion. Herding is what I was born to do. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
So, I don’t need coaxing to herd. I only need direction. And that
comes in a faint, distant whistle. You didn’t hear it? I’m not
surprised. Even I can’t see its source. Even I can barely hear it.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But herding restores my soul. It is my right path. On this the shepherd and I agree.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Today we moved the flock by still waters. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
But tomorrow might be that place in the valley where the rocky terrain
tends to split the flock. Keeping the flock together tomorrow might
require far more of me. I might not be able to do it on my own.
Sometimes I suspect that the shepherd comes in with his staff and works
the side of the flock that I can’t reach.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It just occurred to me
that for some reason you imagined that I, a collie, was herding other
dogs. I’m not sure where you got that idea. I’m not. I herd sheep.
Some dogs pull carts and sleds. Some guard the home. Still others hunt.
I don’t manage other dogs. I’m not the shepherd.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The shepherd prepares a meal for me – the food I need and lots of water.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
At the end of the long day he brushes out my coat. I don’t need burrs
or ticks following me inside, ‘cause I dwell in the house of the
shepherd.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-83986338323914604302019-12-26T11:02:00.001-08:002020-01-16T03:59:14.164-08:00Crafting a View Toward Art -- Part III<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3g3Sj0W1tQk/XgUDuO6pN7I/AAAAAAAAF5o/xjw3xT19BsEFhm0PHUN49EJpEn-m6Q3pACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/carved%2Bstationery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="994" data-original-width="1392" height="228" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3g3Sj0W1tQk/XgUDuO6pN7I/AAAAAAAAF5o/xjw3xT19BsEFhm0PHUN49EJpEn-m6Q3pACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/carved%2Bstationery.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />....and so I want to encourage young and beginning potters that the prompting to scribble outside the lines is the
"after" picture. And I'm not thus encouraging them because I want them
to pursue the craft. I'm doing it because it is my sense that that is what <i>they</i> want to pursue.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> It's my sense that most people are asking how they might acquire the tools with which to be creative.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> And I suspect that is
at least in part true because they have the will to create -- they want
to write, they want to paint, they want to play music -- but don't know
how to get a foot in those doors. All of the skills are still a
mystery. They feel a sense that they want to put something out there
into the world, but they don't know how.<br /><br />And I'm not talking
about the romantics who wish they were a writer, wish they were a
painter, wish they were a musician. I'm talking about the folks who
want to do it. I suspect that for them the suggestion to simply scribble outside the lines is more of a
deterrent than it is an encouragement.<br /><br />To some extent perhaps the
only clarification necessary is the clarification of goals. What does a
person really want as the end result of the endeavor.<br /><br />It was my
experience as a wannabe athlete for most of my youth that if you took
(for instance) two 12 year old boys who had never held a racquet and set
them to a game of tennis -- the one with a basic course in the proper
way to hold the racquet, a proper forehand and a backhand, a proper
serve, and the strict instruction that this is how tennis is "done" --
and the other you simply told "use this racquet to hit the ball over the
net and between the lines and don't ever let a ball bounce twice on
your side...<br /><br />...basic athletic ability being equal, the second
boy would win the match. That is, the goal is often more important than
the skill to get there. On the other hand, once the first boy's skills
start to improve, he will eventually overtake the second boy. There is
an objective reason why the proper means of doing something develop over
time.<br /><br />...oh, you can't have one<br />You can't have one<br />You can't have one <br />Without the other<br /><br />I think that why there's yet another phenomenon in the creativity/skill conundrum:<br /><br />When
older people decide to take up a creative endeavor they fight an uphill
battle against diminishing physical capability and the time required to
learn a skill when compared to youthful counterparts. On the other
hand, they often have a more refined sense of goal. They have more
educated tastes, and they aren't quite as fooled by mindless
meanderings.</span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-40688725986276013882019-12-26T10:54:00.000-08:002019-12-26T10:56:58.882-08:00Crafting a View Toward Art -- Part II<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That's one of the interesting things about this. It's like my attempt at a very short story:</span></span><br />
<div align="center">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img alt=" " src="https://scontent-ort2-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/72706816_10215197233544538_3681208008316026880_n.jpg?_nc_cat=111&_nc_eui2=AeFwQRn3fk9ibQo9eDiXTS9QVmHPXc5qIXW3aYcziC3xItCYlWp9GBkYF926s0iEqFhizD-2Fh1bby4hDvnq4ZQjfg0w4BrczcT-O8dmmVQNng&_nc_ohc=u1ny1yA-2ZgAQleFd99vwrSBVxf_Jo5hHTr0TMX_u6qt9GRKOQtnRYjHg&_nc_ht=scontent-ort2-2.xx&oh=ff795651aaba244f10be8117a69a1b74&oe=5EA4C390" style="max-width: 100%;" /></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div class="quote no_header">
<div class="quote_body">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It
was a quiet day around the universe. Gabriel was between major
announcing gigs. As such, he was kicking around the firmament doing a
whole lot of nothing.<br /><br />He made his way over to a cloud bank on the
far side of the horizon where his long-time friend, Michael, was
supervising the launching of new souls to be born on earth.<br /><br />“Hey,
Gabe” Michael said as he watched his friend climb a small cirrus stile
and make his way over to him and the soul launching pad.<br /><br />“Mike.
‘Sup?” (When Gabriel isn’t making announcements he almost never speaks
in King James English. And he never uses his Transatlantic accent. Even
his diction isn’t much to write scripture about).<br /><br />“Not much.” Replied Michael. “I’ve just been sending some of these new souls down to Earth.<br /><br />They stood together in comfortable silence. Gabriel watched. Michael worked -- his hands on the lever of the soul-launcher.<br /><br />After a while, Gabriel asked, “What’s with the *and* or *or* light?”<br /><br />See,
as Gabriel watched, he noticed that each soul launch involved Michael
pulling a lever. As he did, a small lighted *and* would appear over the
launching chute as the soul disappeared downward. However, with the next
pull of the lever and the next soul starting its descent, the light
would come on and read *or*. As Gabriel continued to watch, he noticed
that there appeared to be no pattern to the *and* or the *or*. It’s just
that sometimes it was one, and sometimes it was the other.<br /><br />“The *and* or *or* light?" said Michael.<br /><br />“Yeah, what’s up with the *and* or *or* light. What’s it mean?”<br /><br />“Oh,
that” Michael replied. “Well, that’s an indicator light. The souls that
go down under the *and* light will be born with the physical and
intellectual capacity to accomplish both *this* and *that* on Earth.”<br /><br />“And the *or* light?”<br /><br />“Yeah, well those souls will have to decide between *this* or *that* because they won’t be capable of both.”<br /><br />Gabriel
quietly watched a while longer as Michael launched a random few more
*and*s and a few more *or*s. Finally he asked, “So, how will the souls
know whether they are an *and* or an *or* once they’re living on the
Earth?”<br /><br />“They won’t.” answered Michael.</span></span></i></div>
</div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />
It's not symmetrical. Propose that there is such thing as "gifted" and
you won't be wrong. But you will almost certainly put a damper on
people's willingness to try. You'll almost certainly squelch the
creative impulse. Why should they try? They're probably not gifted. They
don't feel gifted. They've never yet shown signs of being gifted.
Again, so why try?<br /><br />But propose that there are approaches one can
take to maximize the possibility being successfully creative and folks
might be more encouraged to take it as far as we can. After all, the
mystery of it all is that nobody knows how far they can take it until
they try.<br /><br />And evidence of "gifted" isn't equally present across
all endeavors. It's pretty clear that if an endeavor requires height or
speed or good looks -- Dudley Moore auditioning for the role of Tarzan
notwithstanding -- most of us show the good sense not to even attempt.
But most endeavors -- particularly in the creative arts -- aren't quite
so evidently limiting. When pursuing the arts there are too many
variables for the lack of giftedness to be evident.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/njK6zQp2Fdk/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/njK6zQp2Fdk?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />So it's
probably worthwhile to encourage people to pursue those endeavors with
proven strategies that will likely be most fruitful. Sure, most of us
will find our limitations. Some more quickly than others.<br /><br />But
better to be sent down the best path from the start rather than: 1)
Start down the wrong path that just about guarantees failure or 2)
Assume the concept of "gifted" is so black and white that if I show no
evidence of it, I might as well not try. There isn't always evidence of
giftedness. And there certainly won't be evidence of it if we never try.<br /><br />Practice is the artist's act of faith.<br /><br />But faith is not an epistemological strategy. Faith is the end result at the conclusion of our epistemological strategies.<br /><br />We don't believe by faith. We believe what we are capable of believing and then by faith we pursue what that belief leads to.<br /><br />Learning skills with which to be creative is probably a pretty good thing to put faith in.</span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-55279146384557838572019-12-26T10:51:00.002-08:002019-12-26T10:51:50.298-08:00Crafting a View of Art -- Part I<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>"Instead of pushing creative teams to think outside the box, consider
what’s best for the user and what constraints they face, and create a
new playground where they feel comfortable to explore."</b> -- from a study
showing that children act with far greater freedom on playgrounds where
there are fences surrounding them, and conversely cluster around their
teacher when there are no fences.<br /><br /><a href="https://uxdesign.cc/fenced-in-playgrounds-d5f9371f8414" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">uxdesign.cc/fenced-in-playgrounds-d5f9371f8414</a><br /><br />I guess it comes down to (but maybe isn't limited to?) "What is art?"<br /><br />I
grew up in a culture that evaluated a distinction between art and craft
in which art was deemed something akin to "divine", while craft was
merely mortal. Pedestrian. Sometimes even twee.<br /><br />And so I grew up thinking I wanted to be an artist. Until I didn't.<br /><br />Somewhere
along the line I changed the way I approached the distinction and
realized that all I wanted to do was create objects that pleased me and
at the same time pleased my community as well.<br /><br />That's craft.<br /><br />Add an objective degree of quality to that distinction and if I could achieve that, I maybe could call myself a "craftsman".<br /><br />If
I could successfully do that -- please me and please others by my
creative hand -- maybe I could perpetuate and amplify my ability to keep
doing so by also making a living doing it.<br /><br />The more I was able to make, the more likely came the pleasing results.<br /><br />And,
ironically, the more I pursued that excellence in craft, the more often
my culture described the result of my efforts as "art".<br /><br />Conversely,
when I was studying with a mind to becoming an artist, I found myself
in the midst of an academic and cultural milieu that conflated "freedom"
with "creativity".<br /><br />In that setting there had arisen a couple of
decades worth of a new doctrine that had permeated the academic world
that went something like this: "Teaching the mechanics of how to create
-- the discipline of structured learning of techniques, materials,
history -- will inhibit creativity, effectively hemming them into the
status quo. And the status quo is, by definition, not "Art"."<br /><br />But
I wanted to know how to paint. I wanted to understand soloing over a
chord progression. I wanted master clay. I wanted to know how others who
had come before got the vocabulary in materials to create the works
that at that point seemed transcendent, that spoke to my heart, that
thrilled me.<br /><br />The academic world was telling me that such instruction would inhibit my creativity....and without creativity there is no Art.<br /><br />Small
wonder I found refuge in craft. From that point I followed my intuition
that a string cannot be pushed. It can only be pulled.<br /><br />A bit of
confirmation -- not that my budding acceptance of who I was and what I
wanted to pursue was right -- but that it was right enough for my
ability to understand the world....<br /><br />...I became aware of my estranged nephew's painting.<br /><br />I
was vaguely aware that my brother's son, Stephen, had gone off to Italy
to study painting. Up to that point I had never seen any of Stephen's
artwork.<br /><br /><img alt=" " src="https://img.theepochtimes.com/assets/uploads/2014/12/02/Stephen_Bauman_when_I_was_young-700x420.jpg" style="max-width: 100%;" /><br /><a href="https://www.theepochtimes.com/painter-spotlight-stephen-bauman-the-continuous-search-for-art_1117846.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">www.theepochtimes.com/painter-spotlight-stephen-bauman-the-continuous-search-for-art_1117846.html</a><br /><br />But
the first time I saw one of Stephen's paintings I was quite physically
startled. It was, to my eye, masterful. My mind went immediately to:<br /><br />1.
Artists are born and not made. Stephen had to be gifted, right? That's
what our culture sorta believes, right? I mean, when someone
demonstrates an undeniable skill at something, it must be because they
have something born into them -- or some inspiration from a transcendent
source -- in order to create something so inexplicably "other", right?<br /><br />2.
Therefore, art is the domain of artists. But everyone wants to be an
artist because our culture has romanticized the appellation "Artist" to
such a degree -- who wouldn't want to be thus honored? And so, it seems,
the simplest way to allow everyone who wants to be an artist fulfill
that dream is to re-define art....or at least, change the focus of the
definition to that very (and ironically narrow) corridor of "creative"
-- but creative without an end and creative without a standard.<br /><br />My
introduction to Stephen's painting was causing me a pause in my
philosophical journey. It was causing me to look again at my perceptions
of what was art, what was craft. Were there meaningful distinctions?<br /><br />Was he gifted? Was art not available to just anyone?<br /><br />....and
then I started looking into it just a bit deeper. I went to the website
of the Italian academy at which Stephen was studying.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.florenceacademyofart.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">www.florenceacademyofart.com/</a><br /><br />It
seems that there were hundreds (if not thousands over time) of painters
equally gifted as Stephen. Hmmmm. I saw the illusion of Stephen's
"giftedness" and THEN I got a glimpse behind the curtain. Stephen's
fellow students were doing work much like Stephen's. His fellow students
appeared to be equally "gifted". Hundreds of them. So, maybe Stephen
LEARNED to paint?<br /><br />Yes.<br /><br />And from there he was able to
create. Once armed with a set of skills, Stephen was able to create in a
manner that transcended the how-it-was-done. He was thus now capable of
disappearing into the work and out of sight such that when one viewed
his work, the "how did he DO that?" became secondary to the emotional
response he made himself capable of evoking.</span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-80994191740551831052019-11-20T03:44:00.005-08:002019-11-20T03:44:47.808-08:00Lobby for a Hobby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><u><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rQCuBeen69I/XdUmWHlGFQI/AAAAAAAAF4k/GXxGiTf5PIceeKqjYMB7XAfqir_7tE7NQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/pitchers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="1038" height="152" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rQCuBeen69I/XdUmWHlGFQI/AAAAAAAAF4k/GXxGiTf5PIceeKqjYMB7XAfqir_7tE7NQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/pitchers.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></u></span></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]--><span style="color: #444444;"><u><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span></span></u></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_5">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My brother remains persistent with his questions. Must be love. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Every time I openly wonder out loud about navigating the maze that is
making a living via pottery, no matter how I frame it, the response
comes from the assumption that I am needing more places to sell my work.
"Have you tried galleries? ...have you tried Etsy? ...have you tried
open houses? ....have you tried....?"</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The latest: My brother just asked if I might approach Hobby Lobby about putting a stand of my pottery in their store.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I think what it comes down to is the problem I've always had and always
will have: The reality is that I probably don't need multiple markets.
Multiple means of marketing are so confounding. They defeat each other,
and ultimately, they defeat the one thing that means the most to my
annual income: How many pots can I make in a year (and guessing the
right ones to make)?</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> This has always been hard to wrap my mind
around. Being a potter doesn't work like most businesses wherein if you
need more product to sell, you simply order more. In my case, if I need
more inventory, I have to make it. And whichever means by which I chose
to market cannot monopolize too much of my production time.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> And
the other side of that equation isn't easy either. That is, if I'm
perpetually out of inventory, I can't simply raise my prices (as the
corporate businessman would surmise). The market is too small and the
alternative too multiple and it always will be. I'm amazed sometimes
that I get the prices I get for my pieces. I started as a
twenty-year-old no-name with $6 mugs. I sell mugs for $42 now. But it's
not like I can simply raise my prices. The market won't bear it. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Besides, even that is a trap that's hard to navigate. That is: The
price of a piece isn't what I can sell it for. The price of a piece is
what I can regularly sell it for. So, sure, I can sell one pitcher for,
say. $130. Knowing my market as I do, I'd say that wouldn't be that
hard to do…</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> …But the problem is that I most likely can't ALWAYS
sell pitchers for $130. The art fair market is uneven – spread as it is
over a crazy quilt of demographics, geography, and quality variables.
There are “A” shows and there are “C” shows. And those shows are spread
out over an uneven landscape of regional expectations ($130 isn’t even
beer money in NY, but it’s a week’s groceries in AL). And if you’re not
guaranteed a season of “A” shows, your pricing has to reflect your
dependence upon “B” shows.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> So, if I want to look at, say, a
pitcher as a viable "product", I have to figure out how much of my
annual income I can make from pitchers (perhaps $3,000 a year?) and
calculate whether or not I'm still meeting that annual goal at the
current price. I have to find a price at which a pitcher will always
sell in any market, and that price has to pay me what I need from it --
annually.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> And if I can't make enough from the pitcher (maybe I
conclude that it requires too much labor for the price I can charge)
then I have to be calculating enough to decide not to make it.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
All the while I have to understand that all these lines are quite
blurred by the fact that the pottery itself doesn't stay constant. I
have good firings and bad and everything in between. And in some markets
I'm John Bauman -- known, published potter....and in other (most)
markets I'm just one other potter offering pitchers on the street with
25 other potters doing exactly the same thing.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Finally, add to
that the fact that it is part of my genetic coding to be more driven by
significance than I am by security. That is, it’s hard for me to be
calculating about what I should and shouldn’t be making. Honestly?
….if I like to make pitchers (and I do), I am likely going to continue
to make them to satisfy my soul. Economics be damned. And, yes, that
means I’ll have to work harder somewhere else to pay myself for my
pitcher time. It’s not science. But it is survival.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> In short: I
keep forgetting until reality smacks me in the face that there's really
only one thing that matters to my bottom line: How many pots can I make
in a year? I am RARELY in need of more market -- more ways to sell my
pots. I am USUALLY trying to catch up with my inventory.</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="3l3x"></span></span></span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-80736763961744736682019-10-30T06:00:00.000-07:002019-11-05T04:12:58.576-08:00Never the Twain Shall Meet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O23HTwccRqA/Xbq4ElBSP_I/AAAAAAAAF3o/ON92EKcNU_YZupDxXSo3IwLbzjI7SS19wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/glowing1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O23HTwccRqA/Xbq4ElBSP_I/AAAAAAAAF3o/ON92EKcNU_YZupDxXSo3IwLbzjI7SS19wCLcBGAsYHQ/s200/glowing1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span dir="ltr"><span class="_3l3x _1n4g"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And still the conversation with my brother continued (see previous two posts):<br /><br />Said
another way: "I wish I were an artist/writer/musician" is just that -- a
wish. It's not a hope. It has no basis in reality. It completely misses
the point that if you were an artist/writer/musician, you would already be
writing, p</span></span></span><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">ainting, or playing music.<br /><br />Most
of us Americans get tangled up in the misunderstanding that
writer/artist/musician means you get paid for it. The reality is that
quite possibly most writers/artists/musician either don't get paid for
their work, or they don't get paid enough to make a livelihood from
them.<br /><br />Now, to the American mind, that can only be
understood one way: If you are a "professional" you are good. if you are
an "amateur" you are not good.<br /><br />But without even
trying I could name 20 guitar players who are better musicians than
almost any guitar playing star you might want to name. And I know
artists who never even show their work, though it is stellar. And
writers? omg. There are so many people out in this world right now who
can express themselves in written word but couldn't sell the first page.<br /><br />Nobody wishes themselves into "being" a writer. They write. Some can sell that writing. Some can't.<br /><br />Nobody wishes themselves into "being" an artist. They simply create. Some can sell what they create. Some cannot.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span dir="ltr"><span class="_3l3x _1n4g"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nobody
wishes themselves into "being" a musician. They make music. Some can
sell their music. Some never give a concert to anyone but their
cat.....and even that, not too often. It's hard to get a cat to stay in
the bathroom with you.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QmuJXccKVDg/XbmJHYs9-uI/AAAAAAAAF3c/Jkk6Rfh5NqU4xOX-ACsAWQAhUxMTs2BZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/crushcard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="923" data-original-width="880" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QmuJXccKVDg/XbmJHYs9-uI/AAAAAAAAF3c/Jkk6Rfh5NqU4xOX-ACsAWQAhUxMTs2BZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/crushcard.jpg" width="305" /></a></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-22259306663754292922019-10-30T05:56:00.004-07:002022-09-05T09:58:00.896-07:00Brotherly Conversation Continued (from previous post)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-thQAz9OMo74/T7YimL2vRnI/AAAAAAAADrY/V0Pnpnc94oshBc2IaFK7hzppwJ9pue9uQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/handles.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="886" data-original-width="800" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-thQAz9OMo74/T7YimL2vRnI/AAAAAAAADrY/V0Pnpnc94oshBc2IaFK7hzppwJ9pue9uQCPcBGAYYCw/s200/handles.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-meDYEIK-VmE/TXFWT-mPxXI/AAAAAAAACzk/1Nv9DpfhfUwEibXF0NHyAcTBst3N3jxTQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/bluepitcher1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-meDYEIK-VmE/TXFWT-mPxXI/AAAAAAAACzk/1Nv9DpfhfUwEibXF0NHyAcTBst3N3jxTQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/bluepitcher1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><span dir="ltr"><span class="_3l3x _1n4g"><span><span>The conversation with my brother continued:</span><br /><br /><span>I
have a friend -- a literary critic and writer -- who has a term for the
"significance" thing. He refers to the impetus behind being a real
writer, artist, musician...whatever the creative pursuit....as being
"obligate". I</span></span><span><span><span>t's something you can't not do.</span><br /><br /><span>I
have people approach me all the time expressing their wish to be an
artist. It's a weird longing. It's a weird inquiry. In a sense, you
either are or you aren't. You're either already doing creative pursuits
or you aren't an artist.</span><br /><br /><span>I didn't start making
pottery because I thought it would sell. I started making pottery
because it was such a rewarding creative endeavor by which I could
express myself.</span><br /><br /><span>It was in the creating -- the making
-- that it became obvious that people might also be interested in what I
was making. The dog wagging the tail is to be making and discover there
is a market. The tail wagging the dog is looking at the market when you
don't have anything new to offer it.</span><br /><br /><span>I still pursue
other creative outlets. I'm obligate. I need to play music. I need to
write. There is no market for either. I get it that most male Americans
will never understand that.</span><br /><br /><span>My songwriter friends
have almost universally experienced this. They'll be playing a gig and
someone will approach them after they've sung one of their originals.
And the question asked is always something like "Is that a real song,
or did you just make that up?"</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4GAUdvZ3aRg/TUrpxKvP_PI/AAAAAAAAClo/bVc3nGYkXhYt4VNvBcS1Qw9K5-L_twxOwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/smal%2Bguit.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="317" data-original-width="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4GAUdvZ3aRg/TUrpxKvP_PI/AAAAAAAAClo/bVc3nGYkXhYt4VNvBcS1Qw9K5-L_twxOwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/smal%2Bguit.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br /><span>It's a real divide. I
get it that folks like me who can't not play music or write poems are a
rarity. Most of America thinks (without thinking) that art as a career
is some straight line career choice. It's usually not. It usually isn't
pursued as a career. It is pursued because the pursuit itself lends
meaning and significance to life.</span><br /><br /><span> On some level I
get it. Most of us are culturally bound to the idea that the only thing
worth pursuing is something to which we can affix a dollar compensation
for. And so we say "I wish I could make a living by doing something cool
that would make other people admire me" ....and one of those things we
dream that people admire is the creative arts. That was certainly true
for me.</span><br /><br /><span>But the "Catch 22" of the whole thing is
that if you aren't already pursuing the arts because you have to, then
you have almost no chance that you are going to successfully experience
them for a living.</span><br /><br /><span>The market for commercially
viable trinkets'n'things is positively glutted with foreign import
crapola that can be bought for next to nothing.</span><br /><br /><span>No
smart craftsman is even going to attempt to compete in that market that
is already suitably served by the mass-produced.. If that's what a
fella's bent was in the first place, they'd have likely pursued manufacturing or
engineering.</span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-42101874846954803712019-10-30T05:51:00.000-07:002019-11-07T04:06:45.487-08:00City of Brotherly...Questions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wAhz5C5Ib-0/TUGXr3XFWHI/AAAAAAAACg0/krizaQYRrFkxsle_8fTFeeGFW_to6be8gCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/early%2Bcard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="687" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wAhz5C5Ib-0/TUGXr3XFWHI/AAAAAAAACg0/krizaQYRrFkxsle_8fTFeeGFW_to6be8gCPcBGAYYCw/s200/early%2Bcard.jpg" width="116" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My brothers mostly don't get me. They all followed more
"professional" paths (one's a pilot, one's a periodontist, one's an
accountant). My world seems strange to them.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Upon seeing me sharing my potter-friend's images on facebook, one brother asked me:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
<i>"I wonder after seeing some other peoples' pottery on your website ..
to what extent do you have to "stay in your lane" in your designs?"</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
His question already betrays a businessman's "product" perspective of
the pottery. Commodity. Objects for sale in a competitive market.
That's the world as he sees it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I answered:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vPdTaDuUZVM/TXFWH984DzI/AAAAAAAACzc/cTe1PR30PCgM8N0GcmAMAUnupzW8yFH2gCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/smmaple4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vPdTaDuUZVM/TXFWH984DzI/AAAAAAAACzc/cTe1PR30PCgM8N0GcmAMAUnupzW8yFH2gCPcBGAYYCw/s320/smmaple4.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
.... On the one hand, there's lots of sharing. Something you learn
pretty early on in pottery is that you make yourself an island at your
own risk. Clay is taken right out of the ground and, as such, one acre
of clay isn't the same as the previous acre. There are always materials
problems to solve. Heck, I've lost the better part of a year's
production when feldspar started being pulled out of a different section
of the mine.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> So, there's a great attitude of sharing among
potters. If you don't share information when others are struggling and
trying to solve clay problems, you're going to be on your own when you
suffer your own clay problems.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> With some potters there's a
clearly shared influence -- like "schools" -- so that some potters' work
can look similar to others'.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Additionally, glaze recipes are
handed down in a very folk-traditional way. So, many of us use the same
glazes. Of course, our idiosyncratic kilns make it so that the same
glaze isn't always recognizable as the same.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> But at it's
core, most potters I know are part business man and part artist. I heard
someone describe mankind as having two basic drives: Security and
significance.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I think that what drives the potters I know is
the significance thing. And because of that, outright copying at the
level of shows I do is pretty minimal. There's not much personal
significance to be derived from outright imitation.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Like the moon's light we'll shine<br /> Many a time<br /> But like the sun's?<br /> Maybe once.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
There are a few obvious exceptions, but most of us got where we are by
being recognized as unique. That also means that nobody is going to
climb the ladder to the top using the same rungs we used to get here. It
wouldn't work.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-1791215112080330232019-09-15T16:05:00.001-07:002019-09-15T16:05:21.737-07:00Letter From Doug<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_o">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8C2X7QRvPNw/XX7Dgx2-UKI/AAAAAAAAF2Q/rHu_T6l7YWU6QepV5XBxZhMtfCpGJmrkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/tilepuzzle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="264" data-original-width="263" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8C2X7QRvPNw/XX7Dgx2-UKI/AAAAAAAAF2Q/rHu_T6l7YWU6QepV5XBxZhMtfCpGJmrkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/tilepuzzle.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hi John,</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I remember you once used the metaphor that your life so often seems
like one of those tile puzzles that moms give their kids to keep them
quiet and awake in church.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I get it now. Really, I do. I've
been years now trying to pick a tile to start with, assuming that
perhaps there is one right beginning move that will spare me the regret
and consequences of wrong moves. I'm now guessing that's not the case.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Life doesn't really seem to allow ample time to sort the puzzle tiles
into proper sequence at my convenience. The clock is running. And the
tiles are coming flying at me more like a game of tetris.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But (I
think, anyway) sometimes a fella just has to start moving the tiles
around until some sort of order starts to appear. Then it's work from
there in hopes that you don't come to what seems like the end, only to
realize there are two tiles that need to be reversed --- but that
reversal can only happen by disrupting at least two finished rows.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ...and you're not sitting in church...</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ...and the tiles are, you know, something of great consequence.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I think I finally figured out that I only have one first move: I have
to sell the house and shop. Until that happens, I don't know what I have
left to work with. I can make contingency plans out the wazoo, but the
reality is that those plans are always based on moving targets
themselves...</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> (I could buy this other small house if it's still
on the market and I have enough from the sale of my house to complete
the sale AND rebuild the kiln and shop....</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ....Or I could move
into a mobile home if I have nothing left but Social Security and a
grocery store shelf stocking job available to make ends meet).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
White Christmas opens with that treacly song "What Do You Do With A
General (When He Stops Being A General)?" I'm facing a reality that the
romantic in me had never really supposed would happen, though I should
have been adult enough all along to have allowed my inner William James
to beat back my inner Walt Disney, and drag me back to the real world.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> What do you do with a potter when he stops being a potter?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I always thought that someone as accomplished in his field as I have
had the good fortune to become would be able to trade somewhat on his
notoriety as the prospects of survival on sheer, brute productivity
naturally waned with youth. I was wrong.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Reputation, skill, and
experience don't count for anything if they aren't reputation, skill,
and experience in a field that matters.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The clay world has been a
wonderful, rewarding world in which to make a living. It is, however,
largely anachronistic at its core, demanding in its production, and has a
value that is ultimately tied to notions of both function and its
inherently humble raw materials.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Maggie and I will figure it out
because that's what people do. People figure things out. The instinct
to survive is strong right up until it isn't.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I don't know if
it's my inner Walt Disney or a modicum of grace from the graceless
James, but I will not be selling my pottery equipment, no matter where I
end up. It may end up in storage, but I will hold onto it so that I
might allow myself the conceit that I am still a potter ( even if I am
on a sabbatical of indeterminate length). I think that's called "hope"
(I've always had trouble distinguishing "hopes" from "wishes". Perhaps
that's how I ended up where I am today).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Thanks for the mix CD you sent. The music is great. For forty years we've shared those two constants -- music and pots.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Give my best to Dar, Breeze, and Crush,</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Doug</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-19877822080509978492019-08-24T13:50:00.000-07:002019-08-24T13:50:39.157-07:00It Happened Down In Birdland<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-btFuzzBEOsI/XWGjCxohfbI/AAAAAAAAF1w/77raFAugdjwofQjB4lCF6UcxwnJ-Wq7bgCLcBGAs/s1600/shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="573" data-original-width="960" height="191" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-btFuzzBEOsI/XWGjCxohfbI/AAAAAAAAF1w/77raFAugdjwofQjB4lCF6UcxwnJ-Wq7bgCLcBGAs/s320/shop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The fever of humid Hoosier summer finally broke yesterday and I’ve
been enjoying the shop today with the windows pushed wide open.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Just now I had to turn off my audible book. As much as I’m enjoying the
novel, the redbird in the burning bush thirty feet outside the window
over my wheel is singing a song far more compelling than Leif Enger’s
words. That’s saying something. Leif Enger is one of my favorite
authors. But, God, how this bird can sing.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> This morning the catbird <span class="text_exposed_show">stopped
by for a visit. I was standing at the glass of the shop’s front door
when I saw the little polyglot perched silently in the redbud branch a
mere four feet and a pane of glass away. He dropped down to the
sidewalk and hopped around a bit. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I talked to him. I tried to convince him to stay. I pointed out the
huge maples, the shrubs, the climbing hydrangea – all great places for a
catbird to hang out. Then I confess it – I played the guilt card with
him. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Look” I said, “I know I threatened to cut it down last
year, but here it still is. I didn’t get rid of it. I saw how you
liked it. You could still, you know, use it.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I was talking
about the crab apple tree that umbrellas my shop and drops fruit that
makes a general mess of the driveway 8 months out of the year and barely
makes up for that with a week's worth of blooming in Spring.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> He
was standing under it. Last year his family used it for nesting. It
seemed to work out well for them. And for my part, I never had such a
great selection of free music since the days of Napster.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I know
it’s past catbird singing season, but I just thought if I could
convince him to stay, he might start to think about this place as his
regular summer home. Free music is something worth fighting for.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-28469892834393364212019-08-05T12:55:00.003-07:002019-08-05T12:55:32.217-07:00The By-Ways<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Sf3YS0OgG4/XUiJJHvlD7I/AAAAAAAAF1E/tAwyvaHeHRgQdSIaTSlrN8IogWShFy80gCLcBGAs/s1600/henderson2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="915" height="183" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Sf3YS0OgG4/XUiJJHvlD7I/AAAAAAAAF1E/tAwyvaHeHRgQdSIaTSlrN8IogWShFy80gCLcBGAs/s320/henderson2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's become one of my favorite drives in this big country -- taking
the cross-country, blue highway drive across Minnesota and Iowa.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> The long way home.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Yesterday I followed the storm home (caught up with it just outside
Chicago) and it gave me a light show to beat all. All the way across the
prairie the sun dappled the fields with shafts of light through the
breaking clouds.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> If Ireland is green then Minnesota in summer must be Ireland.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
There's a beautiful passage not too far south of the Twin Cities where
the highway dips down into the Minnesota River valley and enters a
little town called Henderson (pop. 874).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> When life gets hard
enough that I need to go somewhere pleasant in my mind, it will probably
be to Henderson on a summer morning when the fog is still covering the
low ground around the city park by the river, while the 150 year old
brick main street rises above.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Henderson's Andy Taylor will have a
Minnesota accent, but the same slow, deliberate style. The humor won't
make me laugh. It will make me smile. And that for a very long time.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-2454059874324242792019-06-28T06:52:00.001-07:002019-06-28T06:52:54.709-07:00Hold the Dolby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rjs_ZDgQxmI/XRYbbfTxnFI/AAAAAAAAF0Q/suGe3FyMrUUn0gkG7uk4_HXR8uc5wBuyACLcBGAs/s1600/dolby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="939" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rjs_ZDgQxmI/XRYbbfTxnFI/AAAAAAAAF0Q/suGe3FyMrUUn0gkG7uk4_HXR8uc5wBuyACLcBGAs/s320/dolby.jpg" width="313" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><br />
I remember when I got my first cassette player with "Dolby® Noise
Reduction". It was pretty cool. Gone was the hiss of the tape. Gone were
the crackles and pops from the LPs I'd recorded into homemade
cassettes.<br /> <br /> But the polish came off that apple pretty quickly.
Gone along with those vanished hisses, pops and crackles were the sounds
of fingers on guitar strings, and breathing woo<span class="text_exposed_show">dwind players, and sounds of picks on fretboard ends.<br /> <br />
Dolby sucked the life right out of my favorite recordings. Perfect was,
in this case, not perfect. Those extraneous noises were very much a
part of the vitality of the recordings. The noise reduction that Dolby
offered me came at a too high price -- lifeless listening.<br /> <br />
Perfection, as a craftsman's goal is admirable. There's a strange
balancing act. Always a balancing act -- achieving an end result that,
in its perfection both appears to transcend the means of its production
-- while at the same time leaving the hint of the humanity behind in the
creation.<br /> <br /> Craft has historically thrived when technology is
perceived as a threat to our human expression. Man vs. Machine. The
Steam Drill vs. John Henry romanticism. In this digital age when even
much of our "art" is computer generated, there are still those of us who
aren't ready to give up the hands-on exploration of human trial and
accomplishment.<br /> <br /> So, should thrown pottery be perfect?<br /> <br />
Yes. In the sense of a craftsman's results coming close to meeting his
intentions, yes. Perfection is a worthy goal. Control the medium. No
excuses.<br /> <br /> But just maybe that craft should also be a celebration
of the idiosyncratic material -- clay -- a cussed substance that
doesn't always stay where you put it, warps, shrinks, and cracks when
handled poorly.<br /> <br /> And just maybe the marks of the potter's hands
as a reminder that process matters -- matters to lots of us humans --
should not be erased from surfaces, rather, be enjoyed as the part of a
better whole.<br /> <br /> It's not about celebrating imperfection or
rationalizing lazy practice. It's not trying to accept a "it's good
enough for..." mentality. The striving should always be there. The
striving should always be evident.<br /> <br /> I want my recordings to hiss
and pop if it means I also still hear the squeak of fingers on strings
letting me know that there was a living, breathing human behind the
recording -- a human who was participating in the activity of filling
the world with exciting, beautiful, thoughtful work.<br /> <br /> And I want
my pottery to have finger marks, double stamps, bent walls, irregular
trailed lines -- not for their own sake -- not as added affectation to
elicit calculated response -- but as evidence of process. I want those
things that remind me that there was a striving human with lofty goals
willing to risk time, talent, and not a small amount of hope that
he/she'd be putting something of value into our shared world.</span></span></span></span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-60171537925928722182019-06-12T08:17:00.001-07:002019-06-12T08:17:07.463-07:00Me & David<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z917E_i6bGo/XQEW3-iSfSI/AAAAAAAAFzQ/5HsC0hUi7CInzlot2eIlb9cVtrY2mitKgCLcBGAs/s1600/meandavid1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="1500" height="250" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z917E_i6bGo/XQEW3-iSfSI/AAAAAAAAFzQ/5HsC0hUi7CInzlot2eIlb9cVtrY2mitKgCLcBGAs/s320/meandavid1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Me and David*<br /> .<br /> .<br /> .<br /> .<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> .<br /> *David is and always was unaware our our 30 year "collaboration" and may or may not have approved. ;)</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show"></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XkkfCvXje34/XQEW5whINKI/AAAAAAAAFzk/nXcYoIzOZVwJRzME0Nb3cK0wGSNZx_P4ACEwYBhgL/s1600/meandavid2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="854" data-original-width="1200" height="227" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XkkfCvXje34/XQEW5whINKI/AAAAAAAAFzk/nXcYoIzOZVwJRzME0Nb3cK0wGSNZx_P4ACEwYBhgL/s320/meandavid2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bAwBjm_wYsA/XQEXEc7VKYI/AAAAAAAAFzY/FxW-4KoIVqkfBRFYqo2tWH213etMtej3wCEwYBhgL/s1600/meandavid4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1307" data-original-width="1500" height="278" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bAwBjm_wYsA/XQEXEc7VKYI/AAAAAAAAFzY/FxW-4KoIVqkfBRFYqo2tWH213etMtej3wCEwYBhgL/s320/meandavid4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Ih38sLK9aA/XQEXHkcmYFI/AAAAAAAAFzc/mr3yIvriuvQfqdHJFSylijow90cu-LUdgCEwYBhgL/s1600/tablegourds1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="743" data-original-width="1400" height="169" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Ih38sLK9aA/XQEXHkcmYFI/AAAAAAAAFzc/mr3yIvriuvQfqdHJFSylijow90cu-LUdgCEwYBhgL/s320/tablegourds1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="_47e3 _5mfr" title="wink emoticon"></span><span class="_47e3 _5mfr" title="wink emoticon"></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="_47e3 _5mfr" title="wink emoticon"><br /></span></span></span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-68274600081908300752019-06-02T06:43:00.001-07:002019-06-02T06:48:29.216-07:00Barnabas<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"></span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5cf3d175ce5c16b41906233">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-47fuvVSkWms/XPPSd1kpGiI/AAAAAAAAFyo/dOKsRq7NB5gv3dbnk90pH0qrWQtjixfpwCLcBGAs/s1600/trunk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-47fuvVSkWms/XPPSd1kpGiI/AAAAAAAAFyo/dOKsRq7NB5gv3dbnk90pH0qrWQtjixfpwCLcBGAs/s320/trunk.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5cf3d175ce5c16b41906233">
This
is a pretty good metaphor in picture. There's been no bigger
encouragement in my life of creative endeavors than my sister, Jackie,
pictured here letting me out of an antique Wells Fargo trunk.<br />
<br />
I'm guessing it's fairly unusual to have a sibling as such an encourager. <br />
<br />
I mean, our siblings are the ones we grow up with. Our siblings know our weaknesses better than anyone else in the world <span class="text_exposed_show">does.
They grew up sharing the medicine cabinet in which we hid our
Clearasil, they saw our tantrums, they smelled our gym clothes.<br /> <br />
Similarly, our siblings look out at the world from a same shared
perspective that sees all the accomplished, smart, talented, creative
people in the world and measures our collective selves -- our family --
not quite as accomplished, smart, talented, or creative. If you're one
of us, you must be as ordinary as we are.<br /> <br /> Our families see the
errors by which we learn. It's hard to see past them. We don't see
those same errors that were the avenue to success in the accomplished
others.<br /> <br /> But somehow Jackie heard the 6-8 year-old me tooting
melodies poorly on dad's harmonica and she was the first to buy me a
Yamaha chromatic harmonica of my own.<br /> <br /> Somehow Jackie heard the
10-11 year old me stumble through Paul Simon and Peter, Paul, & Mary
songs on a borrowed guitar and heard enough good to think me a
guitarist worth listening to.<br /> <br /> And when the only way I could
cope with the rhymes and words and thoughts that crowded my mind as I
worked at the wheel was by typing them into a blog, it was Jackie who
first called me a "writer". And then she even compiled some of my early
musings into a book.<br /> <br /> So, yeah, the image of her letting me out
of the trunk is apt. It's a good metaphor. I wish everyone could have
a Jackie in their lives who sees more good than bad in them, who sees
something worth encouraging and nourishing in them, who would tell them
that no matter what else the world was saying about their creative
offerings, there is still at least one person in that world who sees
great value -- and who opens up the trunk for them and unleashes them
on the world.</span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-31973441258971109942019-06-01T15:30:00.001-07:002019-06-01T15:30:44.392-07:00It's A Wonderful Life<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8IoZINVqneo/XPL8gAkrH3I/AAAAAAAAFyc/Z0F0Khfj7LgSXoHcVCoDWW-TTWUPIiqLwCLcBGAs/s1600/goourd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="788" height="289" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8IoZINVqneo/XPL8gAkrH3I/AAAAAAAAFyc/Z0F0Khfj7LgSXoHcVCoDWW-TTWUPIiqLwCLcBGAs/s320/goourd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I took a break from making these to go across town to the art fair and say hi to my friends exhibiting there.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
While there I bumped into Mark. I see Mark once every ten years or so
since we both graduated from college back in the '70s. Odd that in a
town as small as ours I don't run into him more frequently.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Anyway, every time I see Mark I'm prone to wonder about how things might
have been. See, when the potter who gave me my start back in '76 was
looking for an apprentice <span class="text_exposed_show">to help him out, I wasn't the first student he called. Mark was.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
When I see Mark I always wonder what I might have become if Mark had
been more interested in making pottery. I might be a rich stock broker
or a famous musician today.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Damn you, Mark.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-91807136040116031702019-05-31T12:35:00.002-07:002019-05-31T12:35:25.731-07:00Sun Magic<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gV3cbvlOJr0/XPGB3v-HKsI/AAAAAAAAFyQ/at43GrBGDkMhLwPEPaN4xjDwnK0t3OHWACLcBGAs/s1600/platter4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gV3cbvlOJr0/XPGB3v-HKsI/AAAAAAAAFyQ/at43GrBGDkMhLwPEPaN4xjDwnK0t3OHWACLcBGAs/s320/platter4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">If you spend a lot of time in the woods as I do, you've probably at some point observed a phenomenon I witnessed this morning.<br /> <br />
It was early morning, so the sun was just over the horizon, but it was a
curiously burning orange ball. I could see the sun if I looked to the
east and found a break in the forest. Mostly, though, I couldn't see the
sun for all the trees surrounding me.<br /> <br /> It was also just <span class="text_exposed_show">late enough in the morning that the sky overhead was a combination of open blue and slightly overcast gray.<br /> <br />
As I walked through the woods, almost everything in my field of vision
was lighted cool -- reflecting the blue and gray of the sky above.<br /> <br />
But -- and here's the phenomenon I'm talking about -- as I rounded a
bend in the trail, deep in a surround of heavy underbrush was what
appeared to be a glowing-orange campfire blazing.<br /> <br /> It wasn't a
campfire. Obviously. But what it was was a small spot of brush that was
being illuminated by the orange sun I could not see. Somehow, through
one small tunnel in all the tree's umbrella and past all the underbrush,
the sun had found a way to light up one small bush in the middle of the
darkest part of the morning forest.<br /> <br /> There should be a name for that phenomenon. I'll have to come up with one.<br /> <br />
Anyway, curiously that sun is still orange at midday. I'm guessing
there must be something huge going on to the west that has cast debris
way up into the atmosphere. That's what this color sky usually means.</span></span></span></span></span>John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-41557765349839509002019-05-26T14:43:00.002-07:002019-05-26T15:32:52.394-07:00Honorable Work<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8g1hGJhRZ1Y/XOsIZCq8JAI/AAAAAAAAFyA/rtUFgFASiQM4PftbHN3A2pHIy5NGHrSbACLcBGAs/s1600/gate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="1300" height="215" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8g1hGJhRZ1Y/XOsIZCq8JAI/AAAAAAAAFyA/rtUFgFASiQM4PftbHN3A2pHIy5NGHrSbACLcBGAs/s320/gate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The world's gatekeepers have lost control of the gates. In some ways
an argument could be made that they served us well. In the examples that
come to mind wherein one didn't get to be a gatekeeper without some
special understanding of the thing he was keeping in or out -- either by
education or seniority or some other meritorious route -- we were
treated to a comfortably homogeneous menu from which we could pick the
already culled servings. If we look at the best offerings on<span class="text_exposed_show"> the menu, we conclude the gatekeepers did their job. If we look at the worst offerings, though....</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
We now live in a time where we can put creative products out to a world
and leapfrog right over the gatekeepers. Josh Turner has done that with
great success. He just started youtubing as a 13-year-old sorta prodigy
and his videos caught on. People have been successfully self-publishing
ebooks. The success rate is low. Josh Turner is one in a billion.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
But really, exposure is the name of the game. There are still
gatekeepers, but you're not going to get past them. Really. You aren't.
Maybe you already know that. Maybe you know your song isn't pop enough
for a recording studio to offer you a contract. Maybe you know that your
book isn't of broad enough interest (maybe you write about pottery <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" title="wink emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t57/1/16/1f609.png?_nc_eui2=AeFlbp_EYggDQpBmKpsjG5sjronjcnNfb3IQBiIYyVP5k6NSkZn4vMlQ6JZ494DEZg9T4idBvDeFjlrNf_xzRzJkVjmvyrGdnSmbPNbjt0ivdQ" width="16" /><span class="_7oe">;)</span></span> )) for an actual publisher to take you on. Maybe you aren't going to get your paintings in a reputable NY gallery.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
The real gatekeepers still need to make money and you're not their
ticket. The only way you can prove your worth to them and the market is
exposure. And getting exposure has traditionally been a humbling,
grovelling activity. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> For some reason it seems to make some of us
feel better to ridicule both the grovellers and the ones trying to give
them a hearing. Maybe such ridicule is a reflexive rationalization for
our own lack of facing that conundrum head on.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Sometimes that ridicule comes framed in the soft language of "Oh, I don't need validation." </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Well, while that one's being painted, color me skeptical.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
Maybe what I'm saying is that the gatekeepers aren't gone. They still
exist and they still matter. But the system is tiered. And your only
hope for getting to the gatekeepers is this grovelling for exposure. Not
many are discovered anymore. Most people grovel. And I think such
grovelling is honorable. It's striving. It's trying.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><span class="text_exposed_show">So, God bless the open mic host.<br /> <br />
And God bless the songwriter who walks through the door with a song to
share. He's not seeking fame. He doesn't want to feel important. He
wants to feel real.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3313799443819854406.post-40932066422087344212019-05-24T10:47:00.001-07:002019-05-24T11:10:44.728-07:00Speaking In Tongues<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pu0NmlSbo9k/XOguDOC1QPI/AAAAAAAAFxw/8KSm4MbJI1MCBv75u0ZUd2ktlXV-Q8czACLcBGAs/s1600/newpitcher1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pu0NmlSbo9k/XOguDOC1QPI/AAAAAAAAFxw/8KSm4MbJI1MCBv75u0ZUd2ktlXV-Q8czACLcBGAs/s320/newpitcher1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Pottery seems to be a bit like speech. It comes in many different
languages -- even different families of languages (just as language has
Romance, Semitic, Indo-European families). And those languages
sometimes break into dialects and accents with their distinct
colloquialisms and conventions.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> That's not particularly illuminating. It's obvious really.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> What's interesting to me is the degree to which, just as I might enjoy the <i>sound</i> of a language without understanding a wor<span class="text_exposed_show">d of it, I can enjoy the look of a pot without fully "getting" it.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
I can't do a convincing British accent, though I understand the words. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Okay, I u</span>sually understand the words. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But, unusually, I can affect a reasonably good French accent,
though I don't understand a word of it.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> But it's nearly impossible for me to produce a pot I don't understand....though, I don't fully understand the pots I make.</span></span></div>
John Baumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10910451039953672849noreply@blogger.com0