I live around the corner from a small pottery studio. I also had been watching a show following a high school pottery club as something light to have on in the background. Noticing that the studio offered classes, expensive ones, my innate need to burn money fused the convenience of a nearby studio and this passing interest in pottery into a creative mission.

But $900 bucks for classes was actually just too much money and the schedule was weird. And so with that the dream began to die / That is until I came across the Y. That was a heroic couplet. My sister mentioned the Y near us had lots of art classes, and they were way more affordable than the small studio. In the face of death, a dream must turn to pragmatism.

I signed up for a pottery wheel class over 4, three hour studio sessions from 6-9 PM. Signing up for this late slot was an active attempt to stave off wintertime hibernation mode. I think it has worked so far. Take that, winter blues! 

I am left handed, but do a lot of things right handed… such is life in a 90% right handed world. I ended up on a wheel that could only spin counterclockwise, i.e., for right handers. This was a bit challenging at first, but I enjoy becoming more ambidextrous, and hate being a bother, so I went with it.

The first class, our goal was just to get some clay on the wheel and make something pot-like with thin-ish walls. I don’t have a picture, but my first attempt went well enough to save for the next week, which was about trimming down the piece. Since I learn through failure, I actually made three more pieces and ruined them all on the wheel. I learned a lot from doing so, but didn’t have anymore pieces to save to trim next week.

The wheel is a weird experience. I feel like I understand the process pretty well from the woodworking I’ve done, but there is enough counterintuitive stuff thrown in that it’s more than just a challenge for my hands… it engages the cerebral part of my brain too. I need to think about how making a piece of the pot thinner can make it taller and/or make it wider. I have to remember that the more water I use, the less mess I actually make! I have to counteract the tendency for an oval pot to become even more ovular. It’s like the difference between steering a canoe from the front and from the back. I wonder if that part will quiet down as I get a better feel for the clay intuitively.

The class has a mix of older people and people my age. It’s nice to socialize in this school-like setting. There is a common interest to talk about, and everyone is in the same boat. Some people are in the class but as repeats. It’s inspiring to see how skillful they are. I definitely am taking more classes after this, in Spring.

The second class, after Thanksgiving, I came back to my pot missing! That meant I had nothing to trim, and I was behind a week. So I went back to the wheel and threw some more pots. Including this one (shown pre-trim)

the week after that, I trimmed that piece and another by putting them on the wheel and shaving off clay like it was a lathe. I really enjoyed this step, but was worried about taking off too much clay and making a hole in my piece! That didn’t happen, fortunately.

The instructor, Anne, and tech Ez have been really helpful. Anne has that classic art teacher fiery spirit and isn’t afraid to just straight up tell me when I am about to mess up. I appreciate that any work we mess up can be recycled and so no material is wasted. That really lets me go all out. I tried to make a plate, for instance, but both tries turned out to be flops.

On the third week of class, Anne showed us all how to glaze our bisque fired pots and also how to throw a plate. She was motivated to demonstrate by seeing me fail, so it was really helpful to see the plate thrown live while getting to ask questions. It felt good to get personalized instruction. In my next post I’ll have a picture of the plate before and after trimming. I can’t help but think about that Mythbusters episode where they tested if a pot could record the voice of Jesus… [busted]