I have gone through many phases in my arts and crafting history.
One of the most memorable was when I wanted to be a potter. That was more than
thirty years ago, when I began taking night school courses from the community
college.
What made this ideal, and would never happen in today’s
financial climate, was that the school maintained an open studio. There were
large work tables, pottery wheels, and an abundance of clay. Any completed
items could be left on a shelf and the instructor would fire them in the kiln,
ready for glazing, and then to be fired again.
As long as there was no class in progress, the studio was
open, day and evening. I spent a lot of
time there, as I was temporarily off work.
I never did get the hang of the wheel. It was an impossible
position to maintain, given that I was 8 ½ months pregnant, that baby bump made
leaning over difficult, hard for me to rest my elbows on my knees. So I did
hand pieces and found I liked that better than the wheel.
My dream was to have my own studio. I had a simple wheel of
my own, and had dibs on a room in one of the sheds for my kiln. Things never
worked out the way I planned.
We were living on a small farm at the time, with an old
house that needed some renovation, so my studio was put on hold.
But that was okay, because I had this other creative project
to keep me occupied, my beautiful baby girl born that July. So, without saying
exactly how old she is, this little remembrance comes the week of her birthday,
when all those memories come flooding back.
Happy Birthday, Kiddo, it’s been a fantastic journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment