Making pots is not for the impatient or person short of time. You could say I take a somewhat demonic pleasure in the process – very often for me the result is less important than the ride (although it’s always good when something turns out the way you want it to!). Every once in a while, though, I forget that you really can’t rush pottery – clay is an unforgiving bitch of a mistress, and I was reminded of this yesterday. I made some mugs last week, and went back yesterday to work on them some more. This is what they looked like when I arrived.
A good potter would have waited for the handle to dry a day or two, and really fasten on. Me – I clearly forgot how to pot, and got all slip-crazy-tastic. So of course, the handles got really heavy with the wet slip, and two of them fell off. To make things even worse, I decided (because I was out of time) to take the mugs home and fix them there. Bad idea when the only thing separating you from your house is a 20 minute drive on First Avenue, riddled with pot holes. So I started out with four really actually beautiful mugs, and by the time I got home, could only save three of them. I’m such an idiot! Lesson learned: don’t rush a good thing.