Pottering about, or about pottering

As mentioned in my profile, I have a very short attention span when it comes to hobbies.  As a consequence, I get through hobbies like some people get through underwear. I change them often.  Then again, there are things I do that other people seem to classify as hobbies, but to me they’re part of life.  Reading, for example.  To me, that’s not a hobby. In fact, if you’re going to classify reading as a hobby, then I might as well list breathing as one of mine. And when does cooking become a hobby? And, if cooking, why not ironing?

Anyway, I digress.  I like hobbies where you can make stuff.  However, I guess I’m blessed with a gift that means I can make most things quite easily, so as a consequence I make stuff I don’t really need or have a use for, and then wonder why I did it. Our house is adorned with bits of useless papercraft which, whilst they look very decorative, ONLY look very decorative. They have no real purpose other than decoration, and there’s only so much useless tat you can display without making your house look as though you’ve turned it into a primary school art display.

 About three years ago, however, I met my nemesis. I signed up for Adult Education classes in Ceramics. I was going to make pots! My expectations were initially low, and I managed not to meet them with amazing success. OK, I didn’t make any of those wonky ashtrays that schoolchildren always seemed to bring home when given the opportunity to be creative with clay, but my first efforts were only a little better. And, for a long time, “ a little better” was about as good as it got.  Being honest, I haven’t ever really grown out of the belief that if I turn my hand to something, I will produce professional quality things within seconds, and now I’m twentyteen I should really know better, but my inability to produce my first masterpiece after half a term was a disappointment. Nevertheless, I stuck with it. I began with a lot of hand-built pots, which looked…well, they looked hand built. In fact, most of them looked as though they had been hand built by someone with impaired vision and one hand tied behind their back. So then, after a year of hand-building, I thought I’d try throwing.

 

You may be familiar with the film “Ghost”. I’m not, especially, but I’ve still seen the bit where  Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze make a phallic symbol out of clay on a pottery wheel whilst  listening to “Unchained Melody”. If you haven’t seen it, you should. Not so much for the slightly risqué imagery, more so that you can marvel in wonder that, apart from getting their hands covered in clay, they stay relatively clean. This, in spite of the fact that Mr Swayze has had the foresight to remove his shirt.  Now if I were remaking this scene, I would have them both dressed in wellies, a pac-a-mac and sou’wester, and have all the scenery draped in plastic sheeting.  I came back from most of my throwing experiences covered in clay up to my armpits. My trousers (in spite of the judicious use of an apron and an old towel) generally ended up so covered in clay that, had it set before I got home, I would have looked like I was half-woman, half-statue. Blowing my nose, even several days after a class, I could find that one or both of my nostrils contained enough clay to make a small dish.

Somehow, I’ve not only continued with this hobby, but (after abandoning the wheel for the rather cleaner and more controllable hand building) I’ve finally begun to make some half-decent pots.The main problem I’m starting to have is what to do with them. I have classmates who occasionally join in with local craft sales and manage to sell some of their work, but I’m still a long way off being confident enough in the quality of my output to risk it. I’ve shipped a fair quantity over to our second home in France, in the spirit of “out of sight, out of mind”, but I’m now wondering if we’ll ever have enough guests, either here in N-o-T, or in France, for me to call my increasing number of serving dishes and bowls  into service. I can’t see it myself. 

I leave you with a little example of my vast body of work…