I have the weirdest days off, honestly. Sundays and Wednesdays. Sometimes it feels like I never leave my day job. But it all works schedule wise.
This year I promised myself to carve out a sliver of time that was just for me, get back to blogging, art, and to try new things. Pottery was at the top of my list. So every Wednesday night I go to pottery class. It was intimidating at first. My first real art class as an adult.
Throwing the clay, pulling up the walls, getting dirty. It's a much harder than the potters of the art world lead you to believe. My first couple of pieces are the size of toothpick holders and possibly a wonky personal sized gravy boat.
But this one class was a turning point. Hovering over the wheel, trying to get my lump of clay to go more vertical, I could hear myself in my head saying "just make a bowl already". Always being busy, in a rush, and more than likely the mom of three littles - was making me actually try to just hurry up the process, and well pressure the clay into something. The whole point of the class was to relax, slow down a bit.
What the potters have that I didn't was patience.
I'm slowly getting better. My second batch of pieces produced a nice bowl, a couple of planters, and a mug. The whole process really makes you appreciate all the pottery pieces you've ever owned and took for granted how they were made.