It seemed time to take a pottery class. I had taken most of the sculpture classes available at the local junior college. I already had a degree from decades earlier and was taking classes for fun. I was never really drawn to pottery but the time seemed right. Unfortunately while the time may have been right my skills were not. Sitting a the pottery wheel I tried to make a cup. I put a clump of clay on the wheel and as it slowly turned I squeezed, formed, cajoled the clay to my bidding. Okay, I thought, I can do this. Too soon I was proved wrong. Before it even resembled a hollow cylinder it grabbed my fingers and in a throe of pique it collapsed into a twisted heap, with no clue to my intended goal. Not daunted I tossed the misshapen form aside and put a fresh clump of clay on the wheel. This time it will be better, I thought. I was wrong. Once again mastering the clay and the spinning forces eluded me, another collapse, another misshapen heap. I tossed the second venture onto the first, resolving to master this process. But between the last collapse and a plan to put yet another clump of clay on the wheel I looked at the pile of the two cup failures. The pile had taken on features. There was the hint of eye sockets and a snout and a mouth that seemed to laugh at my feeble attempts. There was just enough impudence there to prevent me from crushing the face into a ball and tossing it into the recycle pail. Okay, you have a reprieve for a while. But if you intend to take on character I will have something to say about that. Quickly I rolled out a couple of small balls and stuck them in the eye sockets, and added a couple of pencil pokes to make irises. A couple more quick stabs with the pencil created nostrils in the nose. The mouth had just enough of an expression to be left alone. That was enough procrastination; I put it aside to be fired and went back to the cup project. I finally was able to make some crude cups, lacking any finesse of form. They were utilitarian at best, not thin of wall and pure of shape. All the efforts, including the face, went on the cart destined for the kiln.
I did not think much of the face till I retrieved all my efforts after the kiln firing cart came back. I enjoyed glazing more than making the pot on the wheel. After I decorated the cups I decided to embellish the face. I chose some glazes, nothing too garish, the face was already bordering on the absurd. I drew an image of the face in my notebook listing all of the glazes for different features. I wanted to remember which glazes I used. Pottery was fast becoming something I knew was not for me but I forged ahead and put all my efforts onto the cart to be fired again with the glazes applied.
A few days later looked through the returns from the kiln firing. The cups came back better than I had hoped. A couple of little tricks I had tried worked well and while the shape and thickness of the cups was not very good I was pleased with the glazing. The face had not returned from the kiln. A couple of weeks went by and still the face did not show up. I figured there had been some sort of mishap in the firing and I did not dwell on its failure to return.
The class was nearing an end and critiques were going on. While walking through one of the common areas I met one of the sculpture teachers and since I had been in one of her classes she invited me to sit in on the final critique for her class. Various students presented their works for comments and the class was going well until one student presented his sculpture, a face, for comments. I looked at it and before I could even think I blurted out “That's mine”. Before anyone else could comment I continued, “Let me get my notebook” and ran to the other class and grabbed my notebook. Back at the critique I opened my notebook to the page with the drawing, listing all the various glazes that had been applied. The student lamely protested “I made one just like that.” But my evidence held sway and I retrieved the face.
It was only later that the Karma doubts took hold. Could I have handled it differently, was I too aggressive, did I not give the student time to explain, had I been too abrupt. Maybe he had just been unable to come up with something on his own. Maybe he could not afford materials. Maybe aliens had stolen his work. It was clearly too late. I had shamed him in front of the whole class. I felt sorry for the student. I did not need the work for credit or a grade so maybe I should have just let it slip by without comment.Regardless of my Karmic doubts I had the face and it now guards plants on my deck. It watches to see that the visiting squirrel does not knock over plants. It makes sure the bees pollinate the Rosemary flowers. It is my Garden Guardian. It was destined to be with me.