Learning curve

I went on a one-day pottery course today, given by the lovely Myriam, a potter in Lagrasse. I was happy to learn that none of the other three participants had ever made a pot either. We started by making a small pot entirely by hand and then moved on to an activity where my pastry-making skills came in handy: rolling out clay and then cutting out pieces to form coffee cups. We then made some rather odd clay flowers, before stopping for lunch.

After lunch we all had a quick go at using the wheel to throw pots. It's not something you can learn in a few hours, but 18-year-old H turned out to have a natural talent for it and her mum M produced a rather pretty pot too (blip). None of us had much control over the shape we produced, and mine turned out like a yogurt pot. Is it because I'm left-handed, or just clumsy?

And finally we tried our hands at decorating some pots that Myriam had made earlier. I'm no great shakes as an artist, but it was interesting trying different techniques. I also learned that being a potter means accepting mud everywhere -- it's at least as dirty a job as being an archaeologist. 

It was a really enjoyable day. Quite tiring though, especially after yesterday's marathon. I just had time to go home, get changed, and vainly try to scrub dark grey clay off my hands before we went out for dinner at S and T's. Here we were plied liberally with wine (except for S who volunteered to drive), so I was more than just tired by the time we left (erm, after midnight). Phew ... at least Sunday means a lie-in.