Whenever I take a pottery class, I feel an intense letdown when it’s over. Where we live in the desert, I can only take a class every few months — so I know that I won’t start up again for what feels like a long time.
At the end of each session, after all of the pieces are fired in the gas kiln, my teacher holds a potluck party at the studio. Everyone brings a guest, we drink wine and we walk around and look at the finished results. We discuss what worked and what didn’t. The day of the party, I get so anxious about seeing the pieces, I have to train my mind to think about something else. And as soon as I see how they turned out, I want to start creating again. Immediately.
My last class ended Tuesday, and this time, somehow, the letdown feels more intense. I learned how to make a lamp, where I threw two separate pieces that totaled about 10 pounds and attached them on the wheel. A. says he’ll wire it when the shade arrives from World Market this week. I also finally got comfortable making mugs — I made nine of them, five of which I love.
When we move, I’ll be able to take classes consecutively, or throw from home and glaze and fire at a community kiln. But for now, I’m trying to manage my latest letdown — and dream about what I can make in the future.