Pottle Muddery gets potty-mouthed

It seems so long ago that I made my Hope blooms. So much has happened; so much has changed; so much remains uncertain. Every now and then I find myself letting off steam with a few choice words; sometimes more than a few. Occasionally I let out some very choice words at very high volume. Perhaps that’s why when I saw the issue 40 tube-lining, all I could think of was expressively piping swear-words onto clay. It was an image that kept coming back to me, and when it did, I felt a sense of peace. I began to think that if I trailed some serious swear-words onto some dishes, I would somehow feel a bit better about everything. And so, of course, I had to have a go.

Now, while my studio shed is fabulous, it’s mostly fabulous for throwing. I do have the work surface I showed you in last month’s blog, on top of my reclaim and wedging table, but that’s about it; no room for a slab-roller, even my tiny one. And I could roll out by hand