hanna eastin

So, here I am after months, having not posted in ages. This is because I found a much healthier and sensible way to fire the kilns, specifically, not overnight. But this means I am not awake in the wee hours so much, and that strange sense of invincibility and safety in vulnerability doesn’t exist in the same way for me during the day, so I haven’t posted. And that’s too bad, ’cause lots has happened! There have been two shows up in Wichita (I just now finished taking them down, sorry) and partially completed two large commissions, which are very exciting. Actually, there is still quite a lot of stuff at Artworks in Picadilly Square in Wichita, if you want to go look. I understand that it will be back on display for Final Friday this month. So go do that, please, and buy lots!! If I can get my pictures to upload I’ll be posting pictures ASAP. So, I’m going to try to keep up with this and overcome that lack of insulation that darkness provides, and post more during the day.

… are amazing.  I can’t wait to make the Uncertainty Principle piece, including the Mind’s Eye with Astigmatism.  Here’s what I think it looks like. I’ll post pictures as soon as it’s done.

I picture the points of measurement- the measurement of place, and the measurement of velocity- as single shapes but with different sides, kind of…  Like the points will come to points, within a sea of chunky clay and dark colors, but out from under them will come these stretched waves, pulling up from underneath, encasing the sea.  I hope they come out looking fast and embodying urgency and maybe just a little overwrought.  I want it to indicate immense speed and force.  But not without control/grace.

Shapes are completely bewitching.  And there is some kind of obsession that happens chasing them.  I know when I’m close to the ‘right’ shape, but usually have to stop and come back, because you can keep pushing it and pushing it, and get somewhere.  But if you come back fresh, chances are you’ll see the exact point that needed to be pulled under or curved up to make it live.

This thing with control reminds me of something I spent a lot of time thinking about a few years ago, and I think finally became part of life after a while.  Which is:  Without strength you cannot have control/grace, and without control/grace you cannot have skill, therefor, strength and skill do not equate.  I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I know the best pieces I have made have included shapes based from that strength, both inner and physical… To make what I consider a decent curve or shape takes strength to hold the precision, and grace to perceive the fine points, to pull out the tiniest details that make a piece sing, and skill to bring it to completion.  It takes more than brutish effort to make a piece that has its own being.  And that’s what I’m after, hopefully without being brutish.

Actually, upon further thought, my little ‘line’ I thought about was, “Without strength you can’t have control, and without control you can’t have grace, but just having strength doesn’t equate to grace, and just having grace, doesn’t equate to control.”  So there’s that, but right now I have to go check the kiln, so the parallels are yours to draw.

The more precisely the position is determined, the less precisely the momentum is known in this instant, and vice versa.
–Heisenberg, uncertainty paper, 1927

This is a succinct statement of the “uncertainty relation” between the position and the momentum (mass times velocity) of a subatomic particle, such as an electron. This relation has profound implications for such fundamental notions as causality and the determination of the future behavior of an atomic particle.
(http://www.aip.org/history/heisenberg/p08.htm)

I really, really, want to see what happens if I try to make a Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle piece. Also, it has been suggested that I should make a piece about someone’s Minds’ Eye with Astigmatism, because they can’t imagine what an Uncertainty Principle tile might look like. This makes me laugh, and I think it must be done.

Also, its almost finals week, so this might happen sooner rather than later. But we shall see.

This seems similar, from what I remember of this day:

So, it came to my attention on April 19 that someone had copied content from my website and posted it on their own site without asking and without attributing. Their site appears to be a site comprised mainly of other people’s content. Aside from the appalling lack of creativity on their part, it appears to be a site publicizing some wackadoo financing book… Um, independent artist = financing? So, whatever. The point is, that as I was trying to figure out what to do with this, I contacted WordPress, who I incorrectly thought was the host of this fake site. They aren’t and were very clear about their position on that, but they sent me links about Web Plagiarization and how to make a report to the actual host of the infringing website. So I have. I feel pretty bold right now. Props to WordPress for being amazing and supportive, even about things that aren’t their problem at all. Thank you, guys!

This may or may not be interesting. But, as this semester has rolled on, I’ve been doing many more overnight firings, and many fewer all-day-on-Sunday firings. It seemed like a terrible plan at first, but has proved quite useful. I can often spend at least Sunday afternoon working at home or catching up on other work, rather than spening all day tending the kiln.

And the over-night time is interesting. It’s very dark, as you might have noticed. But it’s also full of creatures running round, and various student antics that are both entertaining and heartwrenching. And I’ve managed to scare a few pretty badly, popping out from the kiln shed. Sorry, guys.

So, as it’s Monday, and I’m staring down the barrel of two weekends in a row with Saturday all-nighters involved… Huh. I have no idea what I’m doing. Stocking up on sleep? But it’ll probably be pretty fun. Last time I made a bunch of cups and bowls. This time I should really mix like 2000lbs of clay and get to work on some tiles. Good times. (That would also hark back to the olden days when I spent lots of time mixing lots of clay. My back can attest to this. That post-clay-mixing feeling is the perfect combo of invincible power and utterly broken.) Roar.

‎”Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” -Mary Oliver

I got my first ever blog comments.  (Thanks, Toby and Beth!)  This is bizarre and exciting.

Also, I’m about to embark on the big commission I confirmed in January.  God, this is something.  And also vulnerable.  But what I’ve been thinking about is: Why do I feel so much more vulnerable and shy putting the written word online, than I do in putting what is really a very close representation of my core self, out in the world, permanently, in clay?  Why is one un-nerving and the other exhilarating?

Also, I picked up this little wheel yesterday.  Super excited about this.  This summer will be the season of garage set-up, complete with kiln, wheel, and pug mill.  Though I will have to wait to get power and gas.  But, heck, yeah!  It’s like arranging furniture.  Good times!

Also, blessings to NewtonFreecycle, I picked up this corrugated tin a few weeks ago, so that someday I can build my kiln shed in the back yard.  Let’s all keep track of how long that will take!  But it’s here, just waiting for me.

…may be the worst plan I have ever had as far being a reasonable adult.  However, as I’m sitting here in the wee hours of a February Sunday, there are other things I think about than just how dearly, preciously, I would love to be in bed right now, and how much tomorrow (today) is probably going to be exhausting.  It’s good reflection time, sitting between checks.  I also know I shouldn’t be writing anything right now, it’ll be way too vulnerable in the light of day, but I’m going to do it anyway.

According to recognized sources I no longer count as an ‘emerging’ artist- almost 11 years under my belt as a studio artist.  Huh.  So therefor, I must be established, right?  Something.  Trying, I guess, is all anyone can really do.  And I’m proud of where I’m at.  Pictures will be forthcoming.

I’m both proud and a little chagrined that I was mad when we had snow days last week.  I missed my students and I missed the regular time in the studio working with them.  Not that long ago I would have rejoiced in the day free of responsibility and the weight of Educating The Youth in Useful Skills.  Also, not that long ago I was nauseous and anxious prior to every class, even though I liked it a lot.  I don’t know when this shift happened, or even why, really, except that suddenly I really Love teaching these kids clay stuff.  I’m grateful for the change, and doubly grateful to be excited for class each day.  No more nausea, score one for me!

It’s also February, right when New Year’s Resolutions start to fall apart and real life settles back in…  So I think about that, and how there’s this growing idea in me that this could be my perfect life.  Content.  Then I have visions of monumental projects and things that in my secret imaginary life might just change the world.  Or me.  Whatever.  The pretense!  The presumption of grandeur!  I’ll just try to make the #@!! out of some stuff and see what happens.

Also, this being a Sunday in the USA, I think about God and religion and church.  I don’t know how I got out of that steady practice, and it’s not that I don’t enjoy my church community, wholeheartedly…  But here’s this:  When I go out and see the climb in temperature and follow the patterns of the flames through the kiln, and see the different pieces turn from cold shapes to glowing shadows to a sheet of red heat where nothing is really distinguishable…  That feels as much like (G)god as anything to me, and as much like being connected to a larger power as anything I’ve been in touch with.  And I know this god is always there, and has more power than I do at any given moment in the firing, but- check this out- I shut off the gas and god is gone.  Even so, I know I have that experience in me, forever, each and every firing.  I’m not entirely sure what I’m getting at here, but it’s a balance of power, a continuing dialog and relationship.  And when the time comes we both rise to the occasion.  So that’s my steady practice, I guess.

This just occurred to me:  It’s been almost 3 hours since I uttered a word (unless you count singing along to the radio…) and it will probably be at least another 5 before I speak to another human being.  This feels a little bit holy, too.  Silence (sort of) and fire.  Hm.

So, for whatever it’s worth, that’s what happens in my head in the middle of the night, firing a kiln in February.  It seems to come down to this, which has kept leaping to mind in the last few weeks:  It’s not that serious, and it is so much more serious than we ever imagined.  Do the hell out of it.  (Accompanied with a mental fist bump to whoever.)

In any case, life is good.

Off to check the temps and gauge climb and watch the flame.  Oh yes.

Working at Hesston College’s Chapel, November 2010.  Can’t really remember what I said, but I felt good about it.  This was one time where I said exactly what I wanted to say, and didn’t try to be anything but me.  It worked.  Public speaking is so hard for me, but when I do it how I want to, it’s actually really fun.