on creative process

silk screen prints, Kylie Budge

While sitting in my doctor's waiting room recently I was flicking through a 1996 edition of World Interiors and came across an article about the English modernist potter Edmund de Waal. His work is deeply beautiful, simple and clean, and very influenced by Asian aesthetics. A simple sentence from the article struck me as being quite significant. To paraphrase (no, though tempted, I didn't take the mag home with me) de Waal is known for rigorous critiques of his work, which means that he destroys about half of what he makes after it is fired.

I find this fact about his process very interesting for a number of reasons. Firstly, at the time of the article de Waal was working with an expensive kind of porcelain but nevertheless he wasn't afraid to destroy something he created. Perhaps he could afford to be this ruthless, perhaps not. Secondly, he focuses on releasing the best of what he can make (or what he considers to be the best), and nothing less. So quality is clearly important to him. And third, there is something deeply thrilling to me about the idea of letting go of the 'lesser pieces', the work that hasn't quite resolved itself (to use an art-y term), and being ok about that. Not tearing yourself up about it but just letting it go and accepting that it is part of the process of developing and creating.

Does anything from this ring a bell for you in terms of your process?

of white & blue

It feels quite fitting with my current egg obsession in illustration (pics below) that I should now be the owner of this beautiful egg vase by Melbourne based ceramicist, Anne Ronjat. Really, how lovely is this? It's gorgeously thin and delicate - an example of very good crafts-person-ship. Ask any potter, it's not easy to make pottery this thin. Bought from a place not to be missed if you're in Kyneton, Victoria: the Stockroom.





Mr Kitly has a beautiful raffle of Japanese products going on to raise money for disaster relief in Japan.

what's on the shelf?

A little while ago I got all nostalgic for the small shelves of bowls and cups I had in my wee kitchen in Japan. They were tiny and sat just above my sink but had a window behind them so the light came through the back of all that lovely pottery. It was very pretty to look at in the morning. Nostalgia is a funny thing.

So out of a natsukashi moment came this illustration-come-giclee print. It's available in green and blue, my two favourite colours at the moment. Almost any shade of green or blue is likely to come from my fingertips these days.

I have a good kiwi friend who lived in Japan when I did. She emailed this morning talking of the sorrow they are going through post Christchurch quake. My heart goes out to you NZ.

secret pottery loveliness

Quickly. Shhhhh! Let me show you this beautiful bowl. Crafted by a new potter who is very blog shy so I dare not mention her name. Let's just call her M.I've been sneaking around the house this morning photographing this lovely work because I really believe it should be shared.The glaze is a delicate and subtle green. Like that gentle green you often see in Chinese pottery. The bowl is wonderfully thin and shaped so beautifully that it's a joy to hold in your hands.And I ate that nectarine as soon as the photo shoot was over. My first of the season - so sweet and juicy. I have a feeling I'm going to be in so much trouble for showing these pics to you. But in my defence, isn't the bowl just lovely? And wasn't I right in sharing it with you? But shhhhh! Don't answer too loudly, ok?

hanabi print tea towel

Screen printed by hand on cotton/linen blend fabric in bone. I even made the tea towel! Now that was a lot of fun. It didn't take long for my teenage memory of sewing to kick in again once I put my hands on a sewing machine. The tea cup in the first pic is one of my favourite pieces from a pottery village called Shigaraki near Kyoto.

Hanabi means fireworks in Japanese. Thanks to hiki-san for the name suggestion.