On the third day, we finally arrived at the much-anticipated part of the workshop: adding handles and other little decorative touches. I had big plans swirling in my head—I thought, Why not make a pink piglet cup for my friend born in the Year of the Pig? A piano-themed cup for my teacher? And for a personal challenge, maybe even a bronze mask cup, just for the thrill of it! But reality struck fast. Turns out, attaching a simple handle can be a Herculean task—I spent the entire morning just trying to figure out how to keep one stubborn handle in place.
Now, looking back at my progress from the first two days, I can’t help but laugh at the misshapen, lopsided pieces I made early on. But oddly enough, I felt quite proud—these quirky plates and bowls were all part of my journey. Every small success and even the flops make me who I am today. And honestly, it felt so rewarding to look back with a bit of self-critique, knowing I’ve come a long way since those early, wobbly pieces.
Of course, we had our pottery struggles as beginners, especially with the larger clay pieces. The big ones are notoriously tough to shape, so we resorted to various “strategies” to get our teacher to help us make those coveted large vases. Some went for shameless flattery, while others challenged the teacher to bets with the prize being—you guessed it—a big vase demonstration. The whole atmosphere was full of laughter and light-hearted bribery.
Tip for anyone trying to make porcelain intensely: stay hydrated! I got so caught up in the pottery groove that I didn’t drink water for almost two days. Big mistake! By day three, my throat felt like it had turned into a desert. But staying hydrated isn’t exactly easy when your hands (and sometimes your entire body) are coated in clay. I found myself hesitating to reach for my water bottle just because I didn’t want to go through the hassle of cleaning up first.
But hey, these little struggles and the community spirit of the workshop made it a totally unforgettable experience. It’s not just about the finished pieces but the messy, joyful process that makes pottery so addictive. Whether it’s the thrill of adding that first successful handle or the laughter shared over each other’s clay disasters, these moments are what truly make it special.
