Clay and concentration

Never thought I’d be sitting on my yoga mat with a ball of clay at 2pm on a Saturday, but here we are. Sarah’s been talking up this pottery class for months, and apparently it’s finally rubbing off on me.

Clay and concentration

Picked up a beginner’s kit from the art supply store yesterday - nothing fancy, just some basic clay and tools to see if I could even make something that resembles… well, anything really. The instruction book makes it look so simple. Reality check: it’s not. My first attempt at a bowl looks more like a very sad, lopsided pancake.

The concentration is real

Jake’s been watching from the kitchen, occasionally offering helpful commentary like “Is it supposed to be that flat?” and “Maybe it’s abstract art?” Very supportive, that one. But honestly, there’s something oddly meditative about working with your hands like this. Even if my bowl will never hold anything except maybe my dignity.

Next week Sarah and I are supposed to start that dinner set project for my cultural workshops. After today’s reality check, I’m thinking we might need a backup plan. Or a miracle.