Clay Is Not My Medium

Making art makes me happy, and it fuels my creativity. Mostly, I paint (mostly in other countries, but that’s another story). This year, I started a sculpture class. My mother kindly reminded me that my experience with clay (a pottery class) hadn’t gone well. I wanted to try again.

Three weeks into the class (at New York School of the Arts), I came to the conclusion that clay is not my medium. It’s dirty, it’s difficult, and it never winds up the way I want it to.

My teacher asked me if I was upset by this discovery. Not one bit, I told her. It helps me take the next step toward finding my medium. If I don’t try things, I won’t know what works for me and what doesn’t. Same goes for people, same goes for work, same goes for clients, same goes for, well, other things. (NB to those who’ve known me a long time: I have not been replaced by an alien.)

I’m trying paper next, and maybe wire. There may be a Barbie doll or two. I’ll report back.