Last week I was in a ceramics class. Their assignment was to design and create a house. How liberating it must be to spend ninety minutes every day making something that it completely your own. How relaxing it must be to pound a clump of clay, to get your hands muddy, to lose yourself in that part of your brain.
How awesome are all of those things that I can see as an adult in a high school ceramics class. I see creativity in the making, a release from all things academic.
They probably don’t see it that way.
Some are probably stressing out about getting a good grade, about not being good enough, about worrying about other people’s opinions. Not all. Maybe some, especially those in ceramics for the first term.
Advanced students though were amazing, diligent, and precise. At times they struggled but they tried again or sought advice from a fellow classmate.
Today I subbed for a photography class. Students in first term photography worked on collages using magazines (loved making those when I was younger) and art textbooks. More seasoned photographers left the class to shoot around campus and worked in the dark room to develop their shots. The photographs displayed in the room were breathtaking and I really wanted to take pictures of her displays but didn’t. One day I hope to purchase some from a gallery and tell the artist(s) I saw their work before the public.