1979 or so: Greenwich Village street fair, bought a set of four stacking mugs from the potter who made them. Thought, "I'll bet I could do this!" Newlywed, still in college.
1981: Got busy with young family, but kept thinking about working with clay.
March, 1985: First lessons with a potter in East Rutherford, NJ. Hooked, but good. Continued busyness with family, but the clay was calling, too. Fall semester: back to college, which was unfinished business anyway, haunting the ceramics studio mornings, evenings and Sunday afternoons.
Summer 1986: Excitement! Bought my potter's wheel, a Lockerbie kickwheel. Put it in the basement away from the sump pump and laundry machines, set up a couple of shelves, and began making pots.
1987: Bought my first electric kiln, a clean-burning very-high-temp oven suitable for the suburbs.
1985-2013: Built a working life in clay, using my sturdy, wonderful kickwheel. Through a house move and the life and times of my family, I never put away the clay for long. Built a wonderful studio over time.
2013: After several false tries over a few years, finally launched a functional website to sell my work: http://www.mimistadlerpottery.com. Completed The Gallery Downstairs, 732-492-8558 (by appointment).
2014: Not such a kid any more. A combination of wear and tear on the body and a wish to make bigger, wider pieces on the wheel has convinced me to work smarter. Meet Brent IE, the new electric companion to my steady old Lockerbie!
About an electric potter's wheel: For some, this is an expensive toy.
For me, it is a familiar, professional, ever-growing means of expression, like a pen to a poet. It is a tool, not a toy.
It is also a challenge.
This is a blank spinning machine, with cold metal and plastic parts and bits of wire for electric connection. It does not have ideas. I do. But it is also like a fresh ballpoint pen that flows faster and smoother than the fountain pen that came before (which has its own, different beauty). A continuous speed may sometimes be a good thing when throwing, and sometimes not. I will see which pots want to be made more slowly, with a more gradual and contemplative process, as I have done for so long, and which pots want to be thrown at a higher rate of speed. The process of centering bigger pieces of clay will be much easier. For the rest, I will adapt. It may take a little while. It will be a learning process. Maybe I'll throw bigger. Maybe I'll throw wider. Time will tell.