The Pottery Wheel Wins Again

I signed up for a beginner pottery class at the community art center because I wanted to make my own coffee mug. Eight weeks later, I have made zero mugs and approximately forty lumps.

The wheel is humbling. You press too hard and the clay wobbles off-center and flops over like a tired dog. The instructor, a cheerful woman with clay up to her elbows, calls these "learning sculptures" and lines them up on a shelf labeled HALL OF FAME.

My classmates are a retired judge, a nurse who works nights, two college students and a guy who builds boats. We cheer whenever anyone manages to pull up a wall. Last Thursday the judge made a perfect little bowl and we gave her a standing ovation.

Next week is glazing. I'm going to glaze my best lump bright blue and use it to hold my keys. It's not a mug. It's better. It's proof I tried something new and laughed the whole way through.