Ceramics week 9

The staircases have come out of the kiln - glazed in clear, clear matte, tin, and...hmm ...Also out of the kiln, the porcelain "steps" -
Apart from the ones with nails in them, there are about 30 more with various patterns made by wrinkling the fabric they were rolled out between, or putting nails under and on top of the fabric, not to mention using a stamp at some point -In class, I tried them out on their "legs" and also with cubes (and my favourite staircase) -
Even after mentally translating those opaque paper cubes into translucency, I wasn't happy with the sight - or with the prospect of setting up a mountain of those cubes and fitting the steps into them. So ... why not do away with the cubes, simply have the steps and sticks? (The sticks are actually slivers of bamboo, not great clunky things like these - I managed to leave the real ones at home...)

Adjusting to that idea was like having a rug pulled out from under your feet - but hey, it was me pulling the rug, and it was my feet. I started thinking about the practicalities - how many porcelain steps, how many sticks? (400 - ??? - argh!!) How to stop them from falling over? How big do those holes need to be? How big/small should the steps be? How big/small will my exhibition space be now ... the proposal needs to be handed in tomorrow... Will making the steps in paper clay make them significantly lighter, or just terribly fragile?

Plunging ahead, all afternoon I made steps from paper clay -
including wrinkley ones, and some with pins in -
At home, an evening of trying out the porcelain on the sticks. The holes aren't big enough; the bamboo slivers need sharpening if they're to fit, and stay, in the holes.
My new plan includes using the longest possible sticks. I hope that crossing them midway will make them more stable. If not ... hmm ... still plenty of options! At the moment they're stuck into 1/4" foamcore, which when held down firmly seems to support the smaller ones at least.
Along with playing with the rickety steps, I'm clearing up the workroom, indeed the entire flat, to accomodate visitors. "Don't stress, Mom," says my son; "just move all the stuff on the bed to the other side of the room."
Well I finally found the other side of the room, and have moved the stuff that was on the bed. Next, the irreducible excess will go in black plastic sacks and into the boot of a car for the next fortnight!