I. On this weekend, a year ago, we were making pottery.
He had always wanted to take classes and we had found several studios in Vancouver that offered beginner options. We intended to take a class once we moved.
I was a typically poor first-timer. I couldn’t figure out how to shape the clay or strike it so that the air wasn’t in it and Kurtis had to do this for me. He thwacked the tan clay with such vigorous capability that I was frustrated with his innate ease. Then, on the wheel, I couldn’t get the clay to centre, or keep the wheel moving with consistent speed. Eventually, after several tries, I produced an unevenly formed bowl that was likely to break in the kiln.
Kurtis, unsurprisingly, was a natural on the wheel. Not only did he centre his clay pretty quickly but he immediately understood how to keep the wheel moving steadily so that he could move his clay up and down as if it were a living thing, fluid in his hands.