Pottery

Almost two years ago, I registered for a pottery class. I can’t pinpoint why I ended picking up pottery specifically but there were a couple reasons why I made the decision to sign up for a craft class. Firstly, I had a feeling that I had never really made anything. I’ve built systems and written articles and cooked meals but there was novelty in the fact that something I would produce would be both tangible and lasting.

Secondly, it had been a long time since I had learned anything. More specifically, since I followed a learning process, listening to a teacher and working up from the fundamentals all the way to feeling like you get it and that you can get by.

Working with clay has been a rewarding experience and something that I ended building into my weekly routine. It’s very time-consuming but in a way where the investment pays off: you can watch a lot of videos of people making stuff but nothing beats putting in a few hours at the studio to get better. I tend to spend a large part of my Saturday working there, and one night a week after work.

I know full well that there is a new stereotype building up about 30-something men suddenly finding interest in clay or other craft-y activities. I can’t quite say if there is an influx of men compared to a few years ago but classes at the studio I attend do sell out very fast.

I can relate to what’s being said in those articles, especially the mental space pottery creates. Time spent in the studio does turn into what I would describe as peaceful focus. I’ve also started flipping up plates at restaurants to see the artist’s stamp or identify the clay body they worked with.

The process of working with ceramics is grounding and soothing. The number of steps and the time needed to go from a lump of clay to a finished piece delays the gratification for several weeks. The kiln gods will literally shatter a weak piece or turn its glaze into a rich color. When I told another student that I had accidentally broken one of her pieces, she responded by simply saying: “Clay is healing”.

I had come across Ruby’s years before taking the step to register, just walking randomly in the neighborhood. It’s an unkempt little community with old hippy vibes, balancing the space needed for artists to thrive and keeping things afloat as a non-profit. It’s everything you can expect to find when folks from all walks of life rally around a common craft since almost a century ago.

It’s a little intimidating to get past the small gallery space by the entrance. From it, you can peek at a bustling area where resident artists, drop-ins and students share wheels, wedging tables, drying shelves and all that’s needed for the art to happen. The amount of tribal knowledge about ceramics is immense and freely shared with anyone asking.

I got better and I got better at sucking, which is sort of what I was looking for. I used to keep around a lot of ugly stuff just as a proof that I had made something. These days, all the defects I throw make their way to the recycling bin without much hesitation. I got faster and more demanding. Along the way, I got to make some decent-looking stuff. If you’re interested in seeing more of my work, I post the production of each session on Behance.