It's hard to believe we're already into Week 2 of my pottery class. Those 2.5 hours vanish in an instant—I sit down at the wheel, blink, and suddenly it's time to pack up. Every session ends with me lingering, itching to throw just one more piece. That week-long break between classes? It's a blessing in disguise. I'm discovering muscles I never knew existed, and I'm left with a gentle soreness that lingers for a day or two afterward. Note to self: carve out time to research some targeted stretches for these new aches.
The adventure is ramping up, and I'm thrilled with the pieces I'm shaping. I can't wait to see them transformed—glazed, fired, and ready to emerge from the kiln like little miracles. Next week brings trimming, another layer of this tactile magic, and with every new skill I pick up, my craving for my own pottery wheel intensifies. My teacher even complimented my centering ability, which she says trips up most beginners. I'll take the win! It might sound quirky, but I suspect my background in physics is giving me an edge. I can almost intuitively map out how applying pressure in specific spots will influence the clay's behavior—it's like a hands-on physics experiment, and the satisfaction is pure bliss.
In a moment of bold experimentation (or sheer madness), I decided to tempt fate and throw left-handed. For context, I sometimes flip my dominant hand in casual activities—never writing, but things like eating feel more natural that way. Back in high school, when I played drums, I switched without realizing until my left-handed dad pointed it out. I've even caught myself hanging towels with my left. So why not clay? It started promisingly—not a total flop from the get-go—but the wall-pulling stage flopped (pun intended). I'm a confirmed right-handed puller, no doubt about it. Plus, switching would mean halting everything, resetting the wheel's direction, and starting over. Lesson learned: I'll stick to my right hand and focus on bulking up those little hand muscles instead.
Thanks for tagging along on this muddy journey—it's messy, meditative, and endlessly rewarding. Here are my creations from the week. Can't wait to share the next chapter!
