One of the truly wonderful things about our “We Never” adventures is that no matter what – good, bad or ugly – there’s a story to tell, an anecdote to laugh about, a character to discuss. This has been true whether the activity works out as hoped or completely bombs. In fact, I think that some of the least successful “We Never’s” have been the source of the hardest laughs – the bigger the bust, the bigger the laugh.
Week 28’s “We Never” supported my newly-formulated theory. This week’s fun happened in a tiny pottery studio (and I use the word studio very loosely – it was more of a tarp covered outdoor area crammed behind a larger studio) where we were to learn how to work on a pottery wheel. The swinging half-door opened up into a space no wider than my wing span and no longer than a couple of me. But it was difficult to take in the aesthetics of the place because the combo dog-people smell emanating from that little space sent us both into olfactory overload.
We held our breath and listened intently to our pottery lesson. Unfortunately, there was only one wheel (no more could have fit) so our instructor gave us a quick lesson and we took turns at the wheel while she guided us. After that, we were left to our own devices, allowing us to spin a mess of pottery not really worth saving (which we didn’t mostly because we weren’t allowed to).
The lesson mercifully ended, followed by the cleaning up of the studio. When Erin was asked to clean “our” clay off the already clay-covered wooden floor, I couldn’t look at her for fear that if I caught her eye the humor of the situation would turn me into a giggling fool (remember the unprofessionalism I exhibited in acting class).
No matter what, this is not an art form I will likely pursue, although I do get the appeal of the pottery wheel. The class experience, however, will be tucked away and pulled out from time to time when we want to revisit some of the funnier moments of our “We Never” year.