So I have a new Thursday thing.
I started a pottery class.
A pottery class.
Now before you go off and get all weird on me, let me explain.
My grade 6 French teacher used to keep a potter's wheel in his classroom. He would invite anyone who wished to learn to his after-school sessions. I regret not having gone, but the opportunity presented itself and I thought... what the hell!
The deal is great. You buy blocks of four instructional sessions for $85.00CND. This includes supplies, four 3-hour instructionals, and as much studio time as we want up to 50 hours per week.
At first glance, working with clay appears easy. Those who do it well make it look simple. I expect it's more challenging for me because it's all about coordination and being... well... gentle and not wrecking what you've spent so long to create.
Some of it is a wonderful opportunity to work out one's frustration.
Whacking and smashing balls of wet clay is therapeutic.
Anyway, I came away from my first class having actually made a bowl! Next week we trim and fire this week's efforts.
Know what else? My instructor's name is Dave. Fine name. Great guy. What frustrates me though is that he has short stubby fingers where mine are long and thin - an asset in pottery I'm told - however he's MUCH, MUCH, MUCH better than I!
The neat thing about the environment is that everyone's at a different stage. You can join any time and work at your own pace.
I never really did that well at Art in school but maybe it's like many other things I've discovered... then was just not the time.