Retirement Hobby: Pottery with Purpose
March 26, 2023
Throw clay on a wheel—whatever that meant—I wanted to do it! Shape clay with wet, slick hands. Go beyond painting-on-pottery that I did when my daughters were young. I wanted to create something that I could use and look at, thinking with pride, “I did that.” The time finally came about a month ago.
In the first lesson, I learned that it’s harder and more frustrating than I imagined. It’s also more satisfying. Now, after five classes, it’s slightly less frustrating, but still satisfying. There aren’t any finished products yet to use and wonder at, and having an end-product is starting to feel like a bonus.
It really is about the process, about being absorbed in the making. There are specific steps. While going through them, a connection is created between myself and a lump of clay—many lumps of clay—as I keep repeating the process, feeling the clay in my hands, and my body becoming centered as I focus on centering and shaping the clay. I am my hands, my mind is focused—in/on—my hands, all other thoughts fade away. (Except, perhaps, ugh, another failure; time to try again.)
It's not easy. It feels as if I’ve pulled the walls up as high as one pound of clay can go only to see that it’s barely an inch, or two if I’m on the right track. (From what I see, looking around the classroom space at the others who’ve taken this intro class before, it can get as high as 6 inches.) Clearly, this takes a lot of practice. But it’s also a test in patience.
Wheel throwing has become a way to be absorbed in something outside of myself. I knew that I needed to do something physical as a counterbalance to all the reading and writing that I do in a day. And while I usually walk and swim as exercise, my mind still wanders amidst words and memories and ideas. I need an occasional break from myself and my thoughts. Friends recommended meditation, but that feels like too much of what I do; I don’t want words swirling around, even if I acknowledge them to dismiss them.
As the practical person that I am, I needed a hobby where I make something useful. I thought about sewing, but that would mean my being more in the small apartment I share with my mother. And I definitely needed a break from being there as well.
About two months ago, I signed up for this wheel throwing class after telling a friend how much I enjoyed my initial dipping-the-toe-in lesson, but that I wouldn’t continue since what would I do with all the things I create. Her response was that I can give the stuff away, but why not do something for myself—mind you, this was right after my mother was sick and intense caregiving duties seemed to be looming on the horizon. While those duties have retreated as my mother got better, they are still a concern for the future; truly, she’s not getting younger. My friend, and her daughter, were right: pottery is the meditative, creative, centering activity that I need right now, active caregiving or not.
For a change, I’m doing something with no motive other than the thing itself. It’s not a walk for my health, or a meet-up to make new friends and perhaps meet a man. I went because it was something that I needed to do—for me. The women I’ve met there have all been nice, but we’re focused on our pottery. And it feels good to leave after a few hours not thinking that I didn’t make any lifelong friends, but thinking that the brief conversations, mainly about what they’re making and some helpful tips, were part of the experience of the moment and not meant to go beyond it. They are of the time and place. And that’s okay.
It turns out that the throwing part is momentary. Prepare the clay by wedging, which is like kneading. Form it into a ball or a cone and then throw it onto the center of a pottery wheel (actually a bat, which is a disc that goes on the wheel itself). Now, using your hands and water to keep them wet so they can glide over the surface, shape the clay to form it into the vessel you want. Throwing is so brief. Oddly enough, the act of the throw isn’t satisfying because you’re so intentional on getting it centered that you can’t throw with abandon. It feels good, though, to hear the thunck when it hits the surface (kind of like a good thwack of a pickle ball). Yet another surprise.
Even with all the positive feelings about this foray into pottery making, I’m not sure that I’ll continue and I’m not sure why. The frustration is real, but so is the incremental improvement. Maybe it really is that I don’t make to make things. Or that I’ve gotten so used to being alone, that it’s uncomfortable with other people around (which should probably be a reason to continue). But maybe it’s okay to not know. And maybe it’s okay to just try something, enjoy it, and then move on. I don’t have to commit to something, I don’t have to have one specific hobby.
During the first lesson, I jokingly told the other beginner in the class, “I’m glad I’m not thinking of making this a career.” I tend to think that my activities need to be important. When I started baking, it was to have a bakery. When I came up with ideas for toys and games, it was to have a company. (And this was before Shark Tank.) Maybe I really can just enjoy something in the moment for itself without having to turn it into more than an enjoyable activity. Perhaps this is the lesson here: I’m allowed to do things for myself without feeling guilty that not every action is about giving.
Laura, what you describe is very enticing. An activity where you can just focus and be present and work through the challenges of the moment. Sounds very Zen, contemplative, centering. All of those good things. Maybe it really is more about the journey than the destination. I'm going to have to look around and see if there are any pottery classes nearby!
Posted by: Margaret L | March 27, 2023 at 01:26 PM
I definitely recommend it. The journey to the middle of the pot! After last night's class, I can add that since most of the people in my class already took the beginners class before, they continue to take it because the time works for them. So there's lots of encouragement and sharing tips. Thankfully, there is no competition for Best Pot of the Night. Even the wonkiest vessel shows improvement and charm!
Posted by: Laura of RTOAW | March 28, 2023 at 05:31 AM
Your post resonated with me. I took a pottery class, probably 15 years ago and have been traveling to a studio about 20 minutes from my home. I sometimes go twice a week, one day to throw and one day to trim. I often just make the same thing… Bowls. Bowls and more bowls. . I try to go to the studio when no one is there because I actually don’t like being in there when others are there. I don’t really enjoy the pottery talk and the small chit chat. I am just not all that in… Whatever that means. For me, pottery making was on my bucket list as I’ve always been an avid collector of buying pottery at Craft Fairs. I have made some really nice things ( bowls) and a lot of things that just went to Goodwill. About five months ago, my husband bought me a Pottery wheel so that I could throw at home and then just take it to the studio to have it fired. I thought this would be a great idea to solve the problem I had with not wanting to go to the studio. I could throw and make pottery in my own space. I could do it several times a day if I wanted and not have to plan my day out to make the drive to the studio. Well, five months later I haven’t used the wheel because I have no place to use it. My husband and I discussed making space for it, but that hasn’t happened. I’m now at this place where I’m not even sure I want to do it anymore because I’ve lost my enthusiasm. I’m wrestling with the thoughts of giving it up because I know if I give it up, I won’t revisit it. I’m in my mid 60s and an empty nester now. I love exercise, being outdoors…. I have things to fill my day, most of it anyway. I guess what I’m looking for is someone to say it’s OK….you did it….you enjoyed it , and you can stop doing it. Maybe I’m just looking for someone else that has been through this and can offer some words for me to ponder. 🩷
Posted by: Stephanie Harvey | April 28, 2025 at 05:56 AM
Stephanie,
Thanks for reading and commenting.
I took a This Is Pottery class and then an intro class. It was on my bucket list too. I enjoyed it--even the chitchat--but I realized that I didn't want to work on perfecting making bowls, which seems to require quite a lot of time and dedication. I was pleased with myself for doing something that I wanted to do for such a long time, even if I realized that it wasn't going to be a life-changing hobby. The teacher wasn't coming over to help me as a potential professional like she did with another person in the class!
So to answer your question, yes, it sounds like it's something you did, enjoyed, and now it's time to clear out the clay, hand-over the wheel to someone else, and think about what's next. Isn't that part of the joy of being in our 60s: we do what we want to and when we longer want to, we move on.
Posted by: Laura of RTOAW | April 28, 2025 at 09:03 AM
Thanks Laura for your comment here! Sometimes it’s just hard to muddle through our own thoughts, at least mine because I feel guilty choosing one thing over the other. You are right, maybe it’s just time. It truly could be very exciting embracing something new in my 60s even if I don’t know what it is yet!!!
Posted by: Stephanie Harvey | April 29, 2025 at 06:55 AM
How exciting that we don't have to stick to anything for a career! Maybe you can be a serial starter, where your goal is to learn the basics of different things you're interested in but not be an expert in any. Why not? Me, I'm thinking of finally taking a gardening class to take on the garden in my new state and home!
All the best to you on your ongoing journey of embracing and discovering.
Posted by: Laura of RTOAW | April 29, 2025 at 08:36 AM