I am taking a pottery class.
It's not one of those hippy, make what you feel pottery classes.
The prof. cares about technique, which is good.
Frustrating, but good.
We throw the lump onto the wheel.
Clay which has been wedged into somewhat of a cone, rounded on the bottom, and firmly pressed into the wheel, with two hands, as it spins.
One must be firm with clay. It will get away from you, quickly.
As soon as it is off centre, it will fight you, and resist your gentle nudging.
Only concentrated effort, elbows stabilized on your knees, heels of your hands holding their ground forcing the unruly clay into a cone like shape and down again into a flattened cylinder on the wheel. This is to strengthen the clay by aligning its particles like shingles overlapping one another.
To open the pot, a deceptively easy looking technique, you just make a dent in the top and push down with your fingers straight. The wheel turns, fast or slow depending on the pressure your foot applies to the pedal. Going deeper, is yet another opportunity for disaster.
Building the walls of the pot is called doing pulls. You try keeping a wheel turning moderately quickly with steady pressure from your foot, while pulling up gently but firmly on clay -applying pressure with one hand and supporting the roll of clay which is created with the other. Building up the walls and shaping them is nerve wracking business.
It is neither clean nor easy, and often I find myself holding my breath, hoping that I will not make the false move that completely destroys the pot.
Exciting though, to build something, imperfect, but beautiful (and stronger than you might think).
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