I grew up in Nebraska and
spent a lot of time on my grandparent’s ranch a few miles from my home. There,
I played in the barn with the kittens and in the yard with Grandpa’s Airedales,
watched cattle, rode on the old tractor with my Grandpa and adored walking
through my Grandma’s garden full of county fair prize-winning blooms.
She also had a gorgeous vegetable garden where
I would sit in the dirt, eating tomatoes like apples with a saltshaker readily
in hand. When I was older, I helped her can
her sour cherries for the winter pies. I could sit for hours and marvel at the
incredible insects on the farm and on some evenings, sitting on the back porch
steps, watch little dust twisters on the horizon. I was the typical barefoot, grimy,
scabby kneed, freckle-faced tomboy who lived to be outside, either at my
childhood home playing with the other kids or at one of my grandparent’s or
uncles’ ranches, roaming like a little savage. Whenever I was indoors, I was constantly
drawing . . . on anything I could find. When I was very small, my Grandma gave me a set of colored pencils for
my birthday and that set was my most cherished possession.
We now live in rural Pennsylvania
and as an adult, I’ve observed the decline of some of the insect and plant life
I took for granted, back in the old Nebraska days. The decline of weeds, plants,
and insects also affects bird and bat populations, which we’ve seen
disappearing in our own yard and gardens.
My appreciation of nature and
the lush atmospheric floral and vegetative images which appear on my pottery is
ingrained from childhood and sustained in adulthood. My functional pottery
explores the beauty, whimsy and genuine concern inspired by my “nature girl” childhood.
The colorful coneflowers, tulips, poppies, sunflowers, milkweed, random leaves,
vegetables, fruit, the spiders, snails, my protective garden goblins all find
space on my pots. The themes, although planned, seem to have a life of their
own once implemented and often sustain the wistful atmospheric quality of a
long ago dewy day.
When my husband and I left
graduate school we moved to D.C. and no longer had a place to make pots. We got
entry-level day jobs and eventually discovered Glen Echo Pottery, where we were
lucky enough to teach classes and work on our own pots on weekends. After about
5 years, we left the gridlock of The City and moved to our farmhouse in
Pennsylvania. But my access to a place to make pots disappeared. We taught at
the local community college for awhile, but found the teaching load was too
much on top of the necessary but dreaded “day jobs”, so we left teaching.
Bisqued Example of Gestural
Slip Trailing - 5” W x 9 “ W
Eventually, after about 20 years, I found an old wheel and an even older kiln (both of which I still use!) and began working on pots whenever I could find a free weekend . . . like so many potters – sadly, with very limited time. Happily, I retired about 3 years ago and have thus enjoyed the luxury of having days upon days to focus on my “real work.”
And also, like so many
potters, the transition from the academic gas fired kilns to the little garage
electric kiln was stark. Eventually, I
stopped trying to recreate the look of the reduction atmosphere and taught
myself how to handle underglaze and brushes. Now my work is focused on one of the things oxidation does best: color and imagery.
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| Floral Series Coneflower Pilsner Mug - 7” H x 3” W |
Almost everything I make is
wheel thrown. Sometimes, after trimming, I’ll apply slip (made from my clay
body) from a Clairol bottle, gesturally. After the pots have dried, I bisque
them and subsequently do all the decorating on bisqued ware. The underglaze images are painted by
hand. I sketch a design on the pots with
a pencil and then, painstakingly, add the underglaze with brushes and with slip
trailers to create the floral imagery. Sometimes I fill in an underglaze background around the imagery.
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| Crab Apple Bowl - 6” H x 7” W |
Rather than mixing
underglazes to find the exact color I want, I layer the different colors on top
of each other on the pot. So, there are
many layers of underglaze for each developed color. When all the imagery has
been completed, I usually add a border around rims, handles and the base,
either in black or in one of the darker colors of the designs.
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| Garden Series Assorted Tumblers and Mugs |
The under-glazed pieces are
re-bisqued to harden the underglaze, before the glaze is applied. I usually use a clear glaze for the first
firing. There are usually more glaze firings to follow to develop color over
the decorations. I like the initial
clear glaze firing because I can see the design and it helps to figure out
where to add the colored transparent glazes. I glaze each pot up to 4 times.
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| Garden Series Plates - 3” H x 10” W |
Frequently, a luster firing
will be added at the end so potentially each of my pieces is fired up to 7
times. All work is food safe, however
luster work should not be washed in a dishwasher and cannot be microwaved. The investment of time and resources is quite
large, as it is for most potters, and along the way, unique for potters, is the
lurking potential for a devastating failure. I think many potters never “count chicks!”
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| Garden Series Floral Pitchers - 11” H x 4” W |
Like most makers, what I
create constantly evolves and it’s a wonderful journey, seeing where the
creative process goes. Making things has
been a constant in my life for as long as I can remember, and making pottery is
the one thing that never ceases to be fulfilling, challenging, and yes,
frustrating. For me, pottery never disappoints and frequently delights. I hope my pots can bring smiles and hope to
others, along the way.
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| Garden Series Shadows Mug - 3.75” H x 3” W |
This is Week 27 of 52 Artists in 52 Weeks. Thank
you for reading and sharing Nikki’s story today. To connect with her and see
more of her work, please visit the following links:

















