I enjoyed my second Studio Thursday at the Johnson, and again had a nice time. As I mentioned in my blog last semester, my first Studio Thursday event had given me nostalgic feelings and so I had been looking forward to the next one.

At this event, we were shown a display of pottery/clay work from different tribes of Native Americans (I believe) for inspiration. We were then given clay to work with for the remainder of the time. Looking around, it seemed several of us participants were making some sort of bowl or container, while others had more creative ideas. I stuck to making a bowl from the beginning and found it relaxing, working to smooth it out and perfect it for near an hour.

In the end, I was happy with my product and brought it home to dry, but it didn’t last long (I think leaving it next to an open window on top of my heater cause it to crack).

Last Thursday at the Johnson museum there was a studio session. During the session we made the ceramic sculptures of our dreams. Once I found my way into the room there were rose scholars, RAs from CKB and my friend, who happened to be an assistant for the session in the room. At first I was frazzled from my walk to the Johnson and I was just trying to get settled in, then I was daunted by the task of creating something out of a brick of brown/red clay. I tried creating different things. At first it was a pot, mug, then a butterfly, but they just were not cutting it. Finally I came up with a sunflower of some sort and called it a day. The petals looked like hearts before I attached them but, anyway the clay was self drying so it did not have to go into the oven. A day after I made it I wanted to put it up in my room, but the flower did not make it. It fell apart and half the petals came off just like that. It was funny that the petals were the first thing to come off my ceramic “masterpiece” because in real life petals fall off when the end is near. 

Events at the Johnson Museum have been some of my favorite events in the Rose Scholars program, and the Studio Thursday event did not disappoint. When we first arrived at the museum, we had to wait for a bit while they set up, allowing everyone there to introduce themselves and predict how the clay making would work. None of us knew what to expect; we didn’t know if the clay would be like modeling clay, or real clay that needed to be fired. Before we got to figure out what they clay was like, we went to see clay sculptures from ancient South and Central American groups. The forms and colorings of the sculptures varied based on location and time periods. Looking at the clay sculptures helped to give some inspiration for the next step.

The clay we were given to model with was similar to modeling clay, but wetter and easier to mold. It was also self-hardening, so there was no need to fire it. I decided to make a clay hippo, which was harder than it sounds! Everyone around me was making something different, including a cat bowl and a turtle. Making clay sculptures was super fun and a great way to get to know other scholars!

We were given a block of clay to mold into what we could envision. I envisioned a piece of art that had the form of a circular prism, but the presence of an ancient pyramid; etched into the clay would be symbols that were important to me, even if they were superficial. As a embarked upon my two hour clay making session, my reality took control.

Thinking that I was closely following the directions, my circular prism was supposed to take form in an instant, so that I could further mark my piece with etchings. Instead, The clay was starting to thin and I could get it to go into a circular. Still not frustrated because I understand that the process of art has a mind of its own, I continued. Slowly, but surely, I began to form a circular base that was separated from the rest of the clay due to great indentation. It wasn’t what I originally pictured, but it was coming along. A few minutes later, I became impatient and frustrated with my lack of talent, which led me to seek help. In seeking help, the realization that this piece wasn’t getting better hit me hard. So I did something I normally would not do…. start over.

With starting over came a new, simple vision, one that my hands could actually make happen. I wanted to make a bowl. The assistance of the workshop leaders was very useful in this structure, and it made me feel better about the fruition of my final product. Here was the final result:

My experience with the clay workshop made me think about my personal life. So often I go into situations with innocent intentions and big ideas, and life’s experiences will take me elsewhere. Sometimes those situations require me to start over – not life – but the particular processes. Though this may seem unfortunate to me most of the time, the clay workshop experience and my personal reflection, has helped me to realize that I am learning and growing in ways that I cannot imagine; nonetheless, simple ways. I’m learning not to be afraid of starting over when things don’t go as I’ve pictured, or even just new phases. Next year this time, I will be prepared to start over in a new academic setting, with different faculty members and professors, and new social circles, with new goals. Starting Over, I’m learning, does not always mean a setback. Sometimes it means switching up your direction.

Yesterday in the studio of the Johnson Museum, another Rose Scholar from across the table said, “I can’t remember the last time I got my hands this dirty  and didn’t care,” and I couldn’t have agreed with her more. I’d never heard of Studio Thursday until sometime last week, let alone been to one, and I can honestly say that this  event was probably my favorite one out of all the others that I’ve participated in. When we first arrived, we were shown beautiful clay sculptures from ancient South and Central American groups, each one unique in its own way.

After that, we were taken into the studio to start designing our own masterpieces. Given an apron and a block of either gray or red clay, we had the freedom to roll, mold, and shape to our heart’s desire. Most of us in the studio were Rose Scholars, but there was also a family with two young children there and watching them work was the highlight of my afternoon. The dad carried his son, who was maybe 4 or 5 years old, around the room to see what everyone else was working on. Someone at the table next to me was molding a face that the little boy said looked just like his daddy, while the person across from him was making a vessel so tall and smooth, I was tempted to ask him if I could take it home for myself. (I didn’t.) One of the girls at my table made the cutest clay hippo in existence (that may or may not be an exaggeration), another made a turtle, and a third made a sunflower.

As for my sculpture, at first I tried to mold a bowl with a cat face and cat ears on it, but since I’m not exactly the most artistically inclined person on Earth, that was a disaster. My second attempt was just a cat, but that too was quickly smushed back into my original ball of gray clay, so instead–since my stomach was starting to growl–I asked for extra clay and molded a hamburger and fries. Granted, when I asked the student intern what she thought my models looked like, she said a mushroom from the Mario video game and a mortar and pestle (the things pharmacists use to crush pills). Close enough, right?

I’m so glad I was able to attend this event, and I’m looking forward to going to more Studio Thursdays in the future!

When I was in sixth grade, I desperately wanted a turtle. I begged my parents for months. I did all types of research. I was obsessed. Eventually, my parents gave in.

We went to a small local pet store to look at turtles. The man in the pet store admittedly did not know anything about turtles, but I did. I picked out a small red eared slider. He was about the size of the palm of my hand. I named him Neptune and we were inseparable.

Today, Neptune is about the size of my head. I couldn’t bring him to college with me, but my parents still take care of him at home.

Unfortunately, he has been very sick lately. My parents have had to take him to the vet twice in the last month. I’ve been worried about him in the way that all kids at college worry about their childhood pets. He’s both a member of the family and a symbol of my childhood.

At Studio Thursday at the Johnson, I got to relive my youth and commemorate my childhood pet at the same time.

We were led into the studio and given a big block of clay to work with. The clay was gray and quickly covered our hands. I relived the child-like excitement of getting dirty. Then, as I played with the clay, my mind wandered to Neptune. Suddenly, I was inspired.

I recreated my tiny new turtle, just like I remembered him from sixth grade. I’m still worried about Neptune’s recovery, but for a moment, I felt a little better.