? Homemade Glazes: Alchemy, Trials… and Joy When It Doesn’t Run Off the Tile

When people ask me why I make my own glazes, I could say, “Because it’s more personal,” or “Because I love experimenting,” or even “Because I’m a bit of a masochist.”
But the truth is, it’s addictive.
Once you dive in, there’s no turning back. It’s like opening an ancient spellbook… but with a dust mask and a sweaty notebook.

⚗️ The Beginning: Some Reading, Lots of Confusion

It all started with a glaze recipe I found on some old pottery forum. Three lines, twelve ingredients, and a whole bunch of cryptic terms: silica, feldspar, gerstley borate, bentonite, kaolin, and of course: “adjust according to your clay and firing.”
Thanks, super helpful.

So, I grabbed my bucket, my precision scale (the kind that measures 0.01 grams), and started mixing. My first batch was supposed to be a satin finish with copper oxide for a nice green. On paper, perfect.
In reality? A suspiciously burnt casserole brown.

? Then: Obsession, Spreadsheets… and Syringes

I started taking notes on everything.
I opened a spreadsheet. Created columns: “Temperature / Appearance / Texture / Melting / Potter’s psychological state (stable or existential crisis).”

And I discovered the potter’s secret weapon: the syringe.
Not to inject glaze (though tempting), but to measure the density of my glaze suspensions precisely.
I draw 50 ml with the syringe, weigh it, calculate, note it down.
Because if you want to reproduce a glaze that worked once, you better know exactly what density it had that day.
Otherwise, it’s Russian roulette—and a melted mess in the kiln.

? Then Comes the Magic (Sometimes)

One day I opened the kiln.
I expected nothing.
And there it was: that bowl.
A deep green, just the right amount of crackle, shiny without being flashy, sitting there like it belonged on that piece.
I said nothing. Held it. Turned it in my hand. Put it down. Smiled.

That day, I found my first “my own” glaze.
A mix I patiently adjusted, stabilized, and — thanks to the trusty syringe — documented.
It’s not perfect, but it’s a real achievement.

? What I Learned (In No Particular Order)

• Never trust Pinterest photos. Ever.

• A gram too many changes everything.

• A test fired at 1240°C behaves nothing like one at 1280°C.

• Titanium is both my friend and worst nightmare.

• Reproducing a glaze without measuring its density is like playing the lottery with boxing gloves on.

• Syringe, scale, and notebook: the magical trio for the pottery chemist.

❤️ The Bottom Line: Struggles, But Total Love

Glaze research is a constant struggle.
But it’s also one of the richest parts of the craft.
You play with matter, chemistry, and heat… discovering things no one expected.
Sometimes it’s ugly. Often unstable.
But when it works, and you can reproduce it, that’s pure joy.
(And you quietly thank your little plastic syringe.)