Remember artistica?

She used to live symbiotically with Domestica in our old farm house on the hill. Seems there is less time than ever for attending to her needs lately, especially in household areas like stool painting and op shop trawling. However one of the perks of the job is that I do get to help making some resources and demonstrating techniques for the students.

A couple of things were finished off recently with some kiln firing, another skill that it was nice to dust off.

 These are the Hermansberg style pots. I'm particularly fond of the bottom on the pink lady. It is comfortingly generous.

I'm sure this has been done before a gazillion times but I found these mud wasp nests just as I was loading the kiln one day. There is still some thought going on what to do with them. I'm thinking pastel underglazes and mounting them in a box frame like tiny Baby Bjorns in a row- which they kind of are when you think about it. (Oh look. There's one of the marbles I lost.)

 Last week my esteemed colleague made these with the boys so I had to have a go too because how can you not? Mine is on the lower left with the unfortunate underbite.

There is a strange pleasure to be had in loading and unloading the kiln. It is the magic of the transformation when things are fired. It never gets old. I just can't wait to open it up and see they have become. It's a bit like the cocoon, wasp nest thing I suppose. Here they are all lined up expectantly facing the yawning maw of the open kiln before being fired.

Speaking of being fired,  the northern mountain was thoroughly roasted the other day. On another gloriously clear warm winter's day, the crispy grass went up like paper straight over the hill. We saw it start behind some houses on the way home from soccer when it was just leaping up a couple of trees. An hour later when we drove back over to Nanna's it had spread across the entire mountain.

 Nature is quite dramatic even in the suburbs in Queensland.