Pottery Wheel

(Me working on the wheel)

Since the first time I wrapped my hands around a spinning lump of clay, I was in love. In high school I couldn't get enough wheel time in my pottery classes. I had to buy extra clay, in addition to what the school provided, because I went through it too quickly.

After high school I had a few opportunities to use pottery wheels. Occasionally I could buy an hour of time at an art studio, but I missed the continuous availability I had gotten used to in school. I'd always thought that one day I might be able to afford a little used wheel, but it seemed like a pipe dream.

(My wheel, stool, sponges and a bit of clay)

Then Flannel Man surprised me with my very own wheel for Christmas this year. To put it mildly, I was shocked. Now that we have a house and not a tiny apartment, I can use our garage to work in.

(The wheel and all it's pieces hidden in the garage on Christmas morning)

There's something so soothing about the moment when a wobbly mound of clay becomes centered on the wheel. It's like the whole world just clicks and everything is in synch. I've been having so much fun getting up to my elbows in clay. It's so relaxing and it reminded me how important it is to hang on to hobbies that you love. And even more importantly, to hang on to people who support you in doing the things that you love.

Photos by moi and Flannel Man