summer class

So remember how I was in a ceramics class this summer? It was only 6 weeks long, taught by a stern Russian grandma who didn't like questions too much. We attempted to throw but the wheel is quite difficult to master in just a few classes. I was a bit frustrated at times that I struggled so much, even though I had a bit of experience with ceramics from school. I couldn't quite get the right technique down, even though I tried to ask a lot of questions.

My last class (I was going to miss the last week) Maya the Russian dictator didn't show up. Luckily there was another young guy that was a teacher hanging around that offered to help us. He went through actual instructions on techniques, like how to place our hand when centering, and the proper way to raise the walls. He taught us so many things that were directly the opposite of what Maya had said to do. We were just used to the barking of Maya to just "do it" without any specifics. And if we asked too many questions she would just give us the stank eye and then commandeer our piece and do it herself. Then we would eventually mess it up, and she would say "it vas so good (big sigh), and then you ruin zit."

That last class I had learned so much, and was sad that it was just starting to click when it was my last class. But I still had fun, and didn't want to feel much pressure about it. I got a couple pieces that were okay, one tyler took immediately to use as a ceramic's right of passage, the mighty pencil cup.

I felt bad for my friend because at the last class, Maya heard that we had another teacher that taught us things we had never learned (word got around) and she did not hold back her anger about that. She literally shouted at my friend, and I was glad I missed the wrath of Maya.