Ceramics Class

Wednesday nights are my ceramics class at the Union Project. I signed up for this 10 week class on a whim with Sarah (from the zoo adventure), and it turned out to be a great idea. We both decided it would be cheaper to make pottery than buy it, but I think I may have been wrong. I will need several more semesters before I make anything actually attractive (spoiler: you are all getting lumpy pencil holders and cocktail peanuts bowls for Xmas), but it is really fun.

Fortunately, Sarah and I both suck at this. Our teacher has a very forgiving eye: he thinks since we want it to look handmade, so the imperfections give it character. My pieces tend to have more character than they can hold. Each night I come home with clay that has dripped down my elbows stuck to my pants, smeared on my shirt and splashed in my hair. My attitude about this is similar to learning new assays at work: I have to try to make every mistake once before I can get it right. I haven't yet thrown a perfect anything. Tonight we learned how to make handles- which just adds another dimension to go wrong. I could probably spend 10 weeks practicing the cylinder we did the first night and still be laughing at the explosion of clay during our last week.

If anything makes it out of the oven without exploding, I might post pictures. But if I don't, don't ask.