My first attempt at making a pot. And I am feeling so pleased with myself. Am a novice in the world of wheel pottery and it has taken me around 20 hours of practice to reach this stage. I am fortunate to have a teacher who is so passionate about his art that he does not indulge his students to take short cuts, and insists we develop our senses to understand the fine nuances of this beautiful art.
When I first thought of enrolling myself in a pottery class, it was purely with the intention of learning a new craft. What I didn’t realise at that time was the other skills the clay and the wheel would teach me during this journey.
Today I akin my pottery sessions to meditation. Each time I sit at the wheel, it gives me no option but to focus my attention on it. The moment my attention wanders, the shape of my pot loiters like a wayward child. I NEED to be there. In body and in mind.
I am developing a new level of patience. I had remarked to my husband a few days ago that bringing up two children has taken a toll on my patience. Now I have a new child in the clay I mould. It’s a battle of wills. My teacher always says that I have to learn to control the clay and the wheel and not allow the opposite to happen.
I am learning to break what I have created by my hands. On most days, at the end of the one hour sessions, I break what I have created. I am still learning so each piece is really not worth preserving. But still, I used to hesitate before crushing it up. The moment of hesitation is decreasing each time. Maybe this is also a mini lesson in learning to let go.
So my tryst with pottery is not about the clay and the wheel but so much more. And I am so much richer because of it.