Realizations

Over the weekend I was searching online for a list of Salmon Falls Stoneware makers marks. A friend had a bean pot that I wanted to identify for her, and Jeff wasn't home to take a look at it. During my search I came across a Salmon Falls Stoneware piggy bank with John's mark. John was one of the piggy bank makers at the factory in Dover, NH. As searches go, I then stumbled upon a short essay that John had published in The Sun magazine in 1983. I knew he had subscribed to The Sun, there were lots of old issues in the house. What I didn't know was that he had submitted, and had this piece published.

I AM COMING TO REALIZE I am an artist as opposed to a craftsman. I enjoy making pots that do no more than sit there and speak directly to the spirit. God, I am a lucky one, for I work with spirit every day. Some days more than others. Today, I had to work eight hours before it started, but then it was like working with clay for the first time again, finding new forms and delighting in their appearance. One day of making a group of successful “one-of-a-kinds,” or even getting just one right, will carry me through weeks of repetitious throwing. And the plates and bowls take on a newer, subtle glow.

I have found a voice. I try to let myself be open to it everywhere. When I used to play music, some of the nights, really special nights, it was beyond words. It’s a matter of putting yourself in a place where the spark can come through. You offer yourself up and sometimes it happens, and sometimes it doesn’t. It is in control, not you.

I’ve tried to do the same in my relationships. If I feel that spark, I follow it. And I don’t settle for anything less than the best any more, in anything. I’m talking about quality. In music, in pots, in love. It’s all the same — I wash dishes the same way I play guitar.

The striving to reach new heights is what I love and work so hard for. Maybe I take myself too seriously, but I want to make a statement that will last longer than my life here on earth. Ego? Not entirely. Through art, man has an ability to communicate; it is an emotional language understood at the gut level if the artist has depth and command of his materials. It takes a lifetime to learn those skills — how to weld the technical to the passions of being alive. There are higher forces at work on us. I want to create the feeling that one gets from looking at the pyramids, or the stone sculptures of Easter Island — reaching higher. I have felt much pain in my life, but that has carved out a place in me that is full of love now. I have to hide it even from myself. It’s overwhelming sometimes. And I want to pass it along — it’s not worth a damn if I don’t.

John Zentner

Knoxville, Maryland

My favorite sentence is, "I wash dishes the same way I play guitar." 

And that he did.

Reprinted with permission

Read more of The Sun here: Things I Make - The Sun

Coincidence or The Universe at Work?

After writing my blog post on December 12th, I went out to get the mail. Inside the box was a thick envelope, addressed to me, postmarked Pennsylvania. It was a letter and photos of a dining table set with dinnerware made by John Zentner.

Last summer this gentleman had contacted me via e-mail to say he had purchased this complete set at a consignment store in W. Virginia. He spent a few months researching who the "JZ" maker was. Through my blog he figured it out. He told me he would send photos of the work, but I never heard from him again and put it in the back of my mind.

I find it amazing that his letter and photos arrived on the fifth anniversary of John's passing. 

rambling thoughts...

This evening I was outside glazing pots for the wood firing and as I was glazing I could hear my neighbor's hoe as he worked in his cornfield. It reminded me that making pots is a lot like farming. You need to do what you need to do... no matter what the time is. Like some might say "This ain't no nine to five job".
These thoughts reminded me of a blog post John wrote back in 2006... you can read it by clicking here. If you are so inclined to click and read that post, I think you will be inspired to go back and read more of his blog. His writing was insightful, and reflected the gentle nature of his being. I wish he had had more time on this earth to share more of his wisdom and thoughts through blogging.

In the here and now... I had these pendants made for a raku firing, but decided to glaze them and fire them in the wood kiln. I am excited to see how they react with the ash. The best news that I have tonight is that our electrical problems have all been taken care of! There was nothing wrong with the electric kiln, it was a problem in the electrical box. Our house issues are cured as well...
I will sleep soundly tonight.

The year I was thrown off the Christmas treadmill...

I was never a crazy, over the top, participant in Christmas. A christmas tree, some tasteful decorations, and a reasonable amount of money spent on gifts for family and friends worked for me. It would still get stressful at times, to squeeze everything in, in a few short weeks, and worry if I had forgotten someone, or something.

Some years back my elderly parents announced that they were only buying Christmas gifts for the grandchildren. We adult kids were getting too hard to buy for and they asked us kids to please not buy them anything either. I continued to buy them something every year, I just couldn't imagine not!
...and then there was December of 2008.

John died on the twelfth of December. I obviously had not done any Christmas shopping. I returned to work within the week... the thought of being home alone in an empty house was unbearable. Work would keep me occupied. I drove past the mall everyday, to and from work. Finally one evening I decided I needed to stop and doing some Christmas shopping. I wandered around the mall feeling like an outsider, walking through a world that I didn't belong to. How could all these people be happy and festive? How can the world continue to be business as usual when I have experienced this tragedy? I left the mall and drove home without making a single purchase.

At some point I did manage to get my daughter and her boyfriend a gift certificate and I made some chocolate peppermint bark. Christmas dinner was at my parents, everyone was there... the chocolate peppermint bark was forgotten at home (but I did remember the gift card). It was a really nice Christmas day spent with the family I love. Like the Who's down in Whoville, Christmas still came without all the gifts and fanfare.

Since 2008 I don't stress about Christmas gifts or really buy much of anything except for my daughter, and even there I keep it simple. Sometimes you have to learn the hard way.

Reflections on the past

4 years have passed since John died. I try not to dwell too much on this day, mostly I keep my thoughts to myself... I prefer to celebrate his life on his birthday in February. Thats not to say that I don't find myself counting down the days in December until the twelfth arrives. This year I have also been thinking about another woman's journey through life and death...

I have a facebook "friend" that I have never met. She is a painter who splits her time between North Carolina and Maine. She grew up in New Hampshire and we "met" through a mutual, real and in the flesh friend, Mark. Katy's guy has cancer and it's terminal. He has spent a lot of time in India and he decided he wanted to return there to die with dignity, and in his own way. They visited with lots of family and friends in the United States before making the long trip to India. I have kept up with their journey through a blog they are writing together.

I know from experience that it's hard for family and friends to accept the decisions you make about how you want to die. John wanted to die at home. There was no way he was going back to the hospital or a hospice facility. His parents would have liked him to go back to Maryland and be close to them, my parents thought a hospice house would be better than home, they worried about me having to take care of him. John was the one dying, it was his choice to make. We both knew that home was the best place for him. Everyone finally accepted his decision. I took a leave of absence from work and we were nearly inseparable from November 1st until December 12th. A hospice nurse did come whenever we needed her. It was a very special and intimate time... like we were in our own little 'bubble" of a world for six weeks.
John died at home during the big ice storm of 2008... we had no power or heat, and a tree had fallen on my car, ripping the power lines off the house as it fell. I wrote a post about that day and you can read it here and here.

The hardest part about losing a partner is returning to "real life" and coming home to an empty house.

Expecting to receive that smile and warm hug...
and it's not there, the house is empty.

I have been thinking a lot about Katey's long journey back to the United States from India without her beloved. I am sure it will be a difficult one to make and my wish for her is strength and courage.

special cups

We had a great weekend with our friend Rob and I even managed to get some pots finished in between the fun. My plan was to post some photos of the pots tonight, but I got a little side tracked by a cup I chose to pour some wine into, while I mixed together pizza dough for this evenings dinner.

 Isn't it a beauty?

I don't use this cup everyday, yet tonight I reached for it. This cup was made by Dick Lehman. When John was going through his cancer treatment, he and Dick started conversing via e-mail. At the time Dick was also facing some serious health issues. During their conversations they decided to do a cup exchange. Unfortunately, John died before the exchange took place. When I e-mailed Dick the news, he asked if I would still consider sending one of John's cups to him. He said he had one already picked out to send to him, and would like for me to have it... a cup with an amazing drip. A cup that he knew a potter would appreciate. I chose one of John's to send off to Dick, and I received this one in the mail.

It's a beauty and I treasure it.

a special message

I have spent much of this week taking a break from the internet. The the craftsmen's fair has filled our days and whatever energy that was left in the evening is spent connecting with friends or crashing at our hosts home with a glass of wine and some reading.
Tonight I took a quick look through of some of the blogs I follow and noticed that Alyssa, who owns a tea shoppe in NH, did a blog post about the fair. Alyssa carried John's work in her shop.
Her post this evening made me catch my breath.

apotheca

hanging out with the neighbors

Last night we invited our potter friend and neighbor, Phil Pollet (Old Gap Pottery), to join us for dinner. Jeff and I worked together in the kitchen to make a tasty dish of tofu and stir fried veggies, served over udon noodles. We broke opened a bottle of sake and had an enjoyable evening of smart conversation and good food.
We stayed up way too late and slept in. I couldn't resist take a picture of our cup selection washed and drying on the kitchen island this morning...

Starting in the back from left to right, clockwise: Tokkuri (sake server) by Jeff, faceted cup by Jack Troy, shino cup by John Zentner, Pedestal sake cup by Jeff Brown, sake cup by me, sake cup by Phil Rogers, and sort of in the center faceted cup by Jeff.
The flowers are in a hexagonal wood fired fired vase that Jeff made. It was the first pot the I purchased from him nearly ten years ago. It's still one of my favorites.

Evenings like this one really make me feel fortunate to be living in Seagrove.

As for today... we partially unloaded a kiln and I can't wait to share pictures of Jeff's Korean teabowls (chasabal). Hopefully I will have pictures tomorrow.

3 years...

It has been three years today since John died. i had a long post written but decided i wouldn't publish it. i think i just needed to write it.

These are photos taken by my brother... he and his wife were on in Tulum, Mexico when they got the news that JZ died... 

We all miss you John and hope you are rockin' & rollin' wherever you may be!

the necklace

it was Christmas 2007 and John was going through his first round of chemo at Dana-Farber in Boston. he was part of a clinical trial that included erbitux, along with 4 chemo drugs. the treatment made him so sick he spent 10 days in critical care. he came home the week before Christmas. needles to say, not much holiday shopping got done that year.
on Christmas morning John presented me with a turquoise necklace... he had called Gloria who owned the gallery where our pottery studio was located and asked her to make me something special. it was beautiful.

shortly before the move to North Carolina, i realized that i couldn't find the necklace. Jeff was certain that it was somewhere in the house and that it would turn up while we packed or once we unpacked. a year and a half went by and still no necklace.
i was heartbroken.
i looked in every handbag, suitcase pocket and backpack. no necklace. i came to terms that it was gone. maybe left in a hotel room during our multiple trips between north and south.

Jeff and i decided when we did the craft show in NH last month, that we would tent in the yard at our potter friends, Steve and Sue Russell. we pitched the tent together and i unrolled our sleeping bags. the tent has little storage pockets on the interior and as my hand brushed one of them i realized there was something inside. right away i knew what it was.

the necklace.

jeff and i had camped in Franconia Notch in the White Mts. before we moved south... i cried tears of joy when i found it.

don't you love happy endings?

In Memory of JZ................

February 17, 1951 - December 12, 2008

During the last few weeks of John's life, the wonderful Jane Kaufmann visited us at home and interviewed John in order to create a collaborative piece for the NH Potters Guild biennial exhibition.  Knowing that John was  not able to work in clay any longer, it was decided between them that Jane would make a raku fired pedestal that would hold a pot of his choosing.  Jane would carve a narrative into it that would reflect the conversations that they had together.  The two of them e-mailed back and forth until it was decided what the pedestal would say.  Jane called me to let me know that the pedestal was finished and would John like to choose a glaze color... I had to break the news to her that John had died over the weekend.

Jane chose the glaze color and delivered the pedestal to me so that I could choose a pot to go on top.  It was a hard decision and I changed my mind many times before the exhibition.  I finally settled on a teapot.  Mary Barringer, potter and current editor of Studio Potter magazine, was the juror for the exhibition and she chose the collaborative for an award... she said she was very moved by the piece.

I know I have posted about this in the past, but today would have been John's 60th birthday and I felt like I needed to tell his story again.  I brought the storytelling piece outside to photograph since it is a lovely warm day... and the crocus are blooming.  

the bottom line reads "i love the smell of wet clay"

this one is my favorite: "i am a three guitar man, music came before clay, i love movies and good storytelling too.   i have never chased a dollar, decided if i was going to be broke i might as well be broke doing something that i love"
when i read this i can hear john's voice in my head and heart

tonight i will open up a good bottle of scotch that has been waiting for today...

here's to you zen cowboy... i miss you every day.

missing you...

John Zentner

February 17, 1951 - December 12, 2008

one year

it was one year ago this weekend that john's family, closest friends, and i traveled to assateague national seashore to scatter his ashes.  today my thoughts drift back to that weekend. the weather was beautiful, we walked the beach and enjoyed a nice meal together in the evening.  you can read about it here.

john's "kids" as he use to say... i miss listening to him play, i miss seeing them in their stands in the living-room.  i have a feeling that where ever he is now, he is playing everyday with a whole bunch of great musicians... ROCK ON JZ!!!

cleaning out the northwood studio...

emptying the studio in northwood has been a daunting task.  much of it is overwhelming.  today i took down many of the postcards and posters that have accumulated over many years.  this one i decided to hang on to... too sentimental to let go of...

a postcard from 1985 - Byron Temple  exhibition, Lambertville, NJ.  The address is handwritten.
John's work was hugely influenced by Byron Temple and i am compelled to hang on to it.  it must have had some meaning to him to have carried it with him from Frederick, MD to NH.  i will carry it with me to seagrove, nc.

chillin' on a saturday nite

i promised a pottery post so here it is...

got to the studio late in the day and decided i needed to start recycling some clay scraps...recycling is messy stuff but so rewarding in the end when you have freshly pugged clay to use!

assembled some oval bakers that i started yesterday...this will be my first attempt a creating one with a lid... i will keep you posted on whether this will be successful or not...

here is a long narrow one that i just finished attaching a bottom to...

and here is the best part... chillin' with dinner, listening to miles davis, after a productive day...

bowl by brian gricus, homemade soup by jeff brown, plate by john zentner, cheesy garlic bread by ME, cheap white wine in a sweet, little, nugget of a cup made by jz, glazed and fired by ME! happy saturday night to y'all!

milestones

today is the one year anniversary of nh's devastating ice storm. tomorrow it will be one year since john died. last year i spent this evening in our living room, sitting in the big leather office chair next to his hospital bed. holding his hand, in the darkness. my daughter close by on the sofa.

we couldn't light candles because of the oxygen...john's cadillac of a hospitable bed deflated with no power. he assured me he was "o.k.". i didn't sleep much that night and the next day still no power...by 7pm under the light of the full moon he left this earth and was on to his next journey.

...for weeks it felt like my world stopped and i couldn't understand why everyone else's world continued...

a year has passed. 12 full moons. i miss him everyday...but cry less often. i know he is watching me and i hear him say "good job, grasshopper"

~John Zentner ~

the mystery's we leave behind...

john's brother joe and his wife cindy visited nh this week...on monday we went through some boxes of framed art that john had been moving around with him for over 30 years. when i moved in with him it was all wrapped up and stored away...i wasn't sure what any of it was. when i moved last spring i put them in boxes and stored them in the basement of my new home. the three of us spent monday morning unwrapping the artwork and deciding what we each wanted to keep... there were a few things that i knew i couldn't part with... this particular piece really spoke to me. i wish john had had the time to tell me the story behind it...

slipped into a clear pocket behind the the photograph was a quote by french jouranalist regis debray:

what

gives

humans

access

to the

symbolic

domain

of value

and

meaning

is the

fact that

we die.

jz...may your spirit be free

and it was right on time...

the final resting place...

i flew to maryland yesterday with john's ashes... his wish was for me to scatter them in assateague at the seashore. this place was very special to him. wild ponies roam the seashore. he spent many summer days here with his best friend cecil's family. we had plans to spend time here together... but john got sick, cancer took over the fairy tale life we were creating and we never came to assateague...

today we arrived in chincoteague, john's brother joe, sister-in-law cindy, cecil and his son nathan. we took a long walk along the secluded assateague beach... it was a beautifully warm fall day.

we walked together

and we walked alone.

we had time to contemplate on how john had touched our lives.

tomorrow i will send my zen cowboy on his way.

~love you forever

~noodle

John Zentner and Jane Kaufmann's collaborative story piece

finally figured out how to get this here...although it is very small. it was difficult to photograph because there was so much sunlight flooding the room. here is a link to youtube where i think you can see a larger version.