When I arrived at the studio, I grabbed a couple of pieces that came out of glaze-firing and brought them over to where I was sitting. Before class began, Kim, my new teacher, talked to me about what I’d done and what she was planning to teach in the class. She invited me to do whatever I needed to do, whether it be following the class closely or going off on my own. Either way, she wants to help me move forward.
When we did introductions, she asked me to show the things I had done to the rest of the class. It was something I hadn’t expected, but in a strange twist, I wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, I was kind of happy to be sharing, not for the recognition, but because I was able to say to myself, This is what I’ve been working on. There’s part of my self here.
Kim’s specialty is hand-building, and the rest of the class worked with slabs last night (and made some beautiful and gloriously creative pieces.) I watched them as I threw my first piece on the wheel, picking up a few things I hadn’t known or had forgotten while the clay took shape under my hands. At first, I thought I was making a simple spheroid pot, but once I wired it from the wheel, it screamed, "Make a pitcher of me!" It was an odd experience having the medium talk to me, but I’m starting to grow accustomed to the shift in perception that occasionally comes. I took it in stride.
A quick sketch led to a plan for a piece assembled from three. I got to consult with Kim about how to bring it all together (and learned how to use a caliper to make the second piece.) It’s a fairly ambitious idea, especially since I have to make it all happen before the end of open studio time tomorrow night. Trim, cut, assemble, shape.
If it works, it will be amazingly cool.