Imperfect Pottery

One of my favorite things about my blog is the constant opportunity to try new things. I’m sure I’m making up for not being particularly adventurous as a kid, but better late than never. I find myself drawn to artsy-crafty things, despite an obvious lack of talent, but I have fun anyway.

When I was a kid, my parents bought us one of those children’s toy pottery wheels. Unfortunately, we soon learned that if we put too much pressure on the clay, the motor would stop, and we were never able to make anything with it.

This month I decided to take a pottery class. I didn’t want just a ceramics class where we paint something premade and pick it up later. I wanted to be able to make my own vase or bowl, no matter how ugly or crooked it would inevitably be. Of course, my trusty sidekick, Zoe, agreed to come along.

We signed up for a class at a place called Burst of Butterflies. The studio was super cute showcasing different types of ceramics, paintings, and – of course – decorative butterflies. Their pottery room had eight different wheel stations set up for students. They called it a “Clay Wheel Throwing” class, which I suspected was because we literally threw our blocks of clay in the center (ish) of our pottery wheels. In all actuality, “throwing” is derived from an old English word “thrawan,” which means to twist or turn. Our class was pleasantly small and relaxed. Aside from me and Zoe, there were two other adults and three other (younger) children.

I felt a bit silly as the oldest person in the class. But, we can’t all become experts when we’re young. It helped that there was no audience except a waiting grandmother. The instructor (Mya) was incredibly patient with all of her students. She went around the room multiple times helping us center our clay, shape it into a dome, create an opening, make it taller, and so forth.

Our first project was a cup. I managed to follow directions but by the time the instructor was finished going around to everyone else in the room, I had apparently played with my clay too much and made the top of my cup misshapen. Then she had to come back over and help me fix my cup. After that, others needed help…and I messed up my cup again. Three different times. Apparently, once your clay is in the desired shape, you have to stop touching it before you mess it up.

After multiple mistakes, I unknowingly turned my pot into an unshapely lump of clay with too many air bubbles to make a decent cup. Mya was kind enough to give me the clay from her wheel, which she had reshaped into a starting “dome.” Between ill-stifled giggles, Zoe lovingly pointed out that she was having a great time watching me mess up again and again. Meanwhile, she was the patient student and didn’t mess with her creation, thus ending up with a perfect cup.

Next we got to make a bowl, which used the same basic principles as the cup. My bowl came out a bit narrow but at least it didn’t collapse on itself. I remembered to stop messing with it before my mistakes became too dire to be fixed. Clearly, the top edge still ended up a bit uneven, but that just adds personality.

So, don’t ever worry about being the oldest one in a beginner’s class making the most mistakes. At least I now know what not to do. Despite not having made an unrealistically beautiful vase on my first attempt, at least I have a small cup and bowl…perfect for some hot chocolate and ice cream.

We had to wait three weeks before we could go back to paint them after their first session in the kiln. When we returned to the store, my pieces were just as crooked as I remembered but Zoe’s looked quite nice. We then sat down to paint our projects and, refusing to leave the job unfinished, deemed our projects “good enough” a couple of hours later. Now we just have to wait for them to come back from their second visit to the kiln.

The initial cost was $35 each for the class, which I didn’t think was too bad. However, I was a little surprised that we had to pay an extra $20 for each item we made in class if we wanted to keep it, plus a tip for the instructor, who, by the way, was much more kind and patient than she needed to be. All in all, it was a positive experience and Zoe says she wants to go back.

I didn’t get any good photos in action because my hands were covered in clay, but I did get the post-painted results. Yes, mine are the wonky, sunflower ones. Zoe’s are the much-nicer-shaped pink ones featuring butterflies and blueberries.