The Origin Story

Once upon a time, maybe 25 years ago, I lived in the big city of Vancouver, BC. Looking for ways to get out and have new experiences, and always interested in arts and crafts, I checked out the local continuing education brochure for something to do. That's where I saw a pottery wheel class and I signed up.

It was 8 weeks and I honestly don't remember much about the class except enjoying doing it. I'm sure all the pieces I made were 90% teacher assisted since they look so good to this day. There's a couple in the photo above. I loved a deep blue glaze, even back then.

I enjoyed the class so much that I looked for ways to keep going with the hobby. There was a rec centre close enough to home equipped with a pottery studio so I joined. I would sign in at the front desk so they would know you were there, walk to the back door of the nice, bright and bustling community centre, and out the door to what I recall being a small shed like structure in a back field. Dark and dreary Vancouver nights made that trek a little creepy.

The majority of the time I was there alone, without a clue what to do. Their wheels were different from the class, and that's the reason I told myself that I couldn't throw properly, and not that I didn't remember how to do anything without an instructor guiding every step. Without the internet being what it is today, there wasn't really a way to figure it out except through persistence and practice, but I didn't have that mindset back then.

So I quit. Having made a couple things, I probably left a couple works in progress and a lump of clay on a shelf and gave up.

Fast forward to 2024, the internet has exploded and anything you want to know is in your back pocket. My Instagram feed started to fill up with pottery videos and I watched intently, vaguely remember the throwing process. I started following a couple local studios and decided to sign up for another class and see what happened this time.

Somehow, with a little instruction, my hands knew what to do. I centred the little lump, opened and pulled a respectable cup. Perfect? Of course not. But not bad for 25 years later. I was hooked. I drove home wondering what I would need to set up at home, how much was a wheel, where can I put a kiln. Then my inner voice said "SLOOOOOOW DOOWWN". But it was too late, I was obsessed with figuring it all out right away, watching every YouTube tutorial, finding out what I needed and what I could do without to start.

And I waited to buy a wheel... for a whole 3 weeks and 2 more classes. I joined a studio that offered a firing service and that was that. New hobby unlocked with a plan to turn it into a side hustle down the line.

The rest of that 6 week class was lacklustre; the instructor was more interested in crying about her personal problems and seemed to disappear when we were up to our elbows in clay and needed assistance. Since I had the wheel after the 3rd class and watched every Florian Gadsby video I could, my throwing noticeably improved.

In December, just a few months after getting started, I told another member at the studio that I bought a wheel 3 weeks after starting a pottery class. I remember the look on her face as she smiled and said, "you're insane!" I grinned widely and said "Yes.

Insanity has kept me trying new things, whether they work or don't, it doesn't matter. If you don't try you'll never know. And that's the mentality that doesn't get me frustrated when I spend too much time on something and I end up throwing it away. It's not that I'll never be able to make it. I just can't do it... yet.