just claying around

And who doesn’t need a bit of this every now and then? Yesterday I went to Springfield Convent in Wynberg, where Dale and Pumla host clay workshops in the school’s art wing every month. I’m not actually good with clay – and don’t mind at all –  but it’s still fun to work in a different medium for a change, get my hands dirty, and see the extent to which I can mess up a perfectly smooth and well-worked platter. 

This was what mine looked like at 11.30, to decorate and stamp to my heart’s delight. Sadly, I used far more heart than brain and launched into a bizarre and un-thought-out pattern involving elephants, flowers and far too many indecipherables.  It was also completely off centre but by the time I’d finished, it was too late to do anything about that. Only Allah achieves perfection, I told myself in consolation.  And if it looks really stupid, I can always use it for salad and cover up the skewness with an artful arrangement of rocket and spring onions.    

Everyone else worked slowly, deliberately, carefully, some even working from designs and ideas they had brought with them – like Dawn and Lana. I hated them. Goody two-shoes. Suck-ups. Platter flatterers.

By the end of it, I decided my cowpat (the lump of clay you use for practice) was far more interesting and successful than my platter. I became very attached to mine, and Dale kindly said I could take it home. I felt like a six-year old on my first day of school.

For tea, there was a selection of chocolate fingers, marble cake, carrot cake and biscotti.  Once I’d stocked up, I decided the workshop had been fantastic after all, and maybe, maybe, I’d do another one.  You can never have too many cowpats, right?

To be continued…

 

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