I'd sadly never helped out with the wood firing before; I suppose I feared falling in to the flames or something. I finally joined fellow students and artist-friends of the Baxter's to assist with the 24-hour long, wonderfully labor-intensive process. Above, the kiln waits unlit and pottery sits enclosed carefully within. The abundance of wood scraps would be consumed by the next afternoon. We made use of the tiny wood fragments to start and maintain the flames, gradually increasing until by nightfall anything that would fit was fed through the little door to the fire. If the temperature inside the kiln was raised too dramatically and suddenly, our ceramics could explode.
We often stirred the coals to prevent the fire from choking on itself. The heat on your face and arms (in my case, my legs, since I was brilliant and wore shorts) as you reach in with a long iron rod was at moments unbearable. The coals constantly glowed and sparkled. Stunning. Spell-binding. Sun-like. The process never ceased to be exciting. We took shifts to catch a few hours of sleep throughout the night, since the fire required stoking each time the smoke died down from the chimney.
The kiln takes about a week to cool down, so we've all eagerly awaited the unloading of the kiln tomorrow. The ash from the firing will have left an interesting texture on some of our pottery. Soon those effects, as well as which ceramics were among the few that exploded, will be revealed...
Charming house above built by Gary Baxter. I have no pictures from inside but most of everything, from the staircase to the dishes we ate on, was beautiful and made by Gary.
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