Backfill · 2022
#292 of 357Campus Pottery Studio Open Hours
Personal photo: Hands covered in wet gray clay shaping a small bowl on a spinning pottery wheel, with a wooden rib tool and sponge on the tray beside the wheel, fluorescent studio lighting overhead.
The pottery studio in the art building has open hours on Thursday nights where anyone can walk in, grab a lump of clay, and use the wheels. I started going because my friend dragged me. Now it's the best part of my week. Clay is cold and heavy when you first slap it on the wheel. It resists your hands until you center it, which takes patience I didn't think I had. When it finally starts spinning smooth, the feeling in your fingers is like catching a wave right at the moment it lifts you. The room smells like wet earth and old plaster. Kilns hum in the back, and everyone concentrates so hard that nobody talks much. Just quiet focus that feels totally different from studying. I've ruined probably 15 bowls trying to make them thin enough, pulling the walls up and watching them wobble and collapse. But the 3 that survived the bisque firing and came out of the glaze kiln looking like actual objects I could eat from gave me a satisfaction I haven't felt from any assignment. Grad students who supervise are generous with tips. They'll reach over and press your elbow down or tell you to slow the wheel speed, and suddenly the clay cooperates. It costs nothing because the materials fee is built into tuition. A university providing this without making you take a class for credit feels like a gift. I bring my own towel now and an old t-shirt. Clay gets under my fingernails and takes 2 days to fully wash out. Glaze colors are unpredictable because the kiln temperature varies. What you think will be blue comes out green-gray. What should be clear becomes milky. Randomness is part of what I like. My bowls sit on my desk, lumpy and uneven. I made them with my hands and wouldn't trade them for anything from a store. Physical making feels completely different from digital making. The resistance of the material teaches you something a screen never will.