I’ve always thought I might enjoy pottery, so when a space opened up at Hinckley Pottery – a few blocks from my house – I decided to give it a go. I’ve now had three classes, and have thrown six bowls, trimmed four and am about to fire my fire few so I can glaze them.
Everyone assumes it’s therapeutic, but I think you have to get good at it before that’s the case. (People say that about yoga too, and I’d give the same response.) Actually – now that I think about it, perhaps it IS therapeutic and I’m just too competitive to achieve that zen-like state. (Same for yoga.)
Let’s just say, when it comes to a pedal (be it on a car, a sewing machine or a potter’s wheel), I know only one speed: FLOORED.
Whenever the teacher walks by me, she’s like, “Alison, I think you might want to slow your wheel down a bit.”
And I turn it down until she’s past me – then floor it again. Because at that pace, I can make twice as many bowls as my classmates in two hours.
pithypants 