Pottery Night in the Carolinas, Part II

Back to the pottery studio tonight.

The first time I tried this, it was a horror show. I barely remembered how to set myself up at the wheel. Centering clay was an adventure. Freshmen taking Pots for Jocks shot me pitying glances. You get the idea.

Tonight, I could center the clay. Lock the left arm, shape with the right hand. The flesh remembers, even after all these years. Fits and starts and shapes half-made falling back into clay, and by the end of the evening I'd made two or three things r...