Midnight Shift Confessional #2

Its been about a year since I sat in front of Matt’s kiln and wrote my first Midnight Shift Confessional. Now I am in front of a different kiln, although similar in many aspects. It too is large and lumbers along, consuming effortlessly 5 or 6 large slabs of pine per stoke. The pyrometer reads 1989 as we slowly climb through reduction.

Since being at Marks I’ve done this shift every firing and its just dawning on me that I won’t always get to do this. When it is my kiln that shift will probably be given to someone else, so I will be rested in the morning to lead the firing to completion. Suddenly that day does not seem so far off and as it approaches I am again thinking about shadows.

This time it is not the shadow of family but instead the shadows of those who have taught me. Its not going to be an easy road and the ruts that they have worn are deep and comfortable, which I will gladly follow for a time, my work showing clearly the influence of those who have taught as well as all of the influences of their respective pasts. Eventually though, I suspect the road will become less worn, and those ruts will fade into tracks which in turn will become just a faint trail which I can follow for a time and then veer off away but know that it is always there to return to.

That is what we get from an apprenticeship, a guide and a standard. Something to go forward with us into the world as we make our work, something to nudge us along towards excellence. For almost three years I have tried to perfect some one else's vision of perfection, to chase after the forms of their own tormented search. The problem with this is that you never get there. It’s the carrot on the stick and I will never be satisfied until I stop seeking that approval and instead grant it to myself.