Washing Up

At the end of each studio session, cleaning plaster tools becomes a quiet ritual. The two bucket method keeps water clear, prevents build up, and restores rhythm for the next day.

At the end of each session, I turn to the buckets. One holds clear water, the other is clouded from use. Tools pass between them, first rinsed in the murky water, then swirled through the clean. The system is simple, but it keeps the plaster from building up, saves the sink from hardening deposits, and gives the tools a chance to last a little longer.

The task is repetitive. Trowels, spatulas, mixing sticks, brushes. Each one collects its own layer of plaster as I work, and each one needs to be cleaned before the next day. Some evenings it feels like another job when I’m already tired. Other times it’s the quietest part of the day, hands in water and the surface of the studio settling after hours of dust and noise.

No matter how thorough I am, there are always traces left behind. A pale film on the edge of the bucket, grit that settles at the bottom, faint streaks across the handles of tools. I’ve stopped thinking of them as mistakes in cleaning. They’re reminders that materials don’t fully disappear. Even in washing, something stays.

Over time, I’ve come to rely on this routine as a marker of rhythm. Washing up closes the work, draws a line under the day. Without it, tools would harden and resist use the next time. With it, they are reset, ready for another round of layering and scraping.

The two-bucket system keeps the water useful longer, but it also gives me a sense of order. One murky, one clear. One for letting go, one for starting fresh. By the time the last tool rests on the bench to dry, the buckets themselves are heavy, ready to be tipped into the garden where plaster traces mix into soil.

There are evenings when I delay washing up, tempted to leave it until the morning. But the few times I have, I’ve regretted it. Tools stiffen, buckets grow stubborn, and the first hour of the next day is spent undoing what could have been closed before. Finishing properly at night makes the morning lighter. It gives a sense of continuity, one day folding into the next without friction.

Tomorrow the cycle will begin again. Tools dipped, layered with plaster, then washed. A quiet task that holds the work together, even if it rarely shows in the final surface.

-- AM

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