Mugshot

Take a look at this mug. The ceramic one. I made that. I made it with my own hands.

This spring, I decided to begin research on a book that has been percolating my insides the last six months or so. It's a story about Clay. He's clay. The main character. He is made of clay. His name is, too. Clay. The main character's name is Clay. Which makes it both convenient and confusing at the same time.

So I decided to see what it was like to work with clay. I took a beginning pottery class at the Sawtooth Center here in Winston-Salem. The first thing I learned is that there was a lot to. Learn. There is a lot to learn. At least three-quarters of the class had been taking beginning pottery for years.

Our instructor, Po-Wen Liu, and I as it turned out had much in common. Not our wheelthrowing abilities. He is a master. I am and will likely remain a young grasshopper. But we both have two children. And when it comes to parenting them we are on even ground. Neither of us know what we are doing.

About four sessions in, Po-Wen asked me what I was doing there. It took me awhile to understand he wasn't talking about the mess I was making. He was wondering why I was taking pottery. Looking around at my fellow throwers, I guess it would make one wonder. Most were retired. The others, but one, had previous experience. The one was a student at North Carolina State who had taken a semester off and had time to spare. Then, there was me.

I thought about making something up, but I have been on this no lying kick lately, so I told him. "I want to write a book about clay, and I am planning on befriending you so you will want to help me write it." He said, "Ok."

He told me that a few years ago he was the consultant on the Newberry Medal winning book A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park. It had been a great experience for him, and he said he would be thrilled to have another. I said, "Ok."

How about that for serendipity?

We had our last class yesterday. I think I am going to take a second beginning class in the fall. Over the summer, Po-Wen and I are going to 'work out' at his studio in Greensboro.

The mug you see in the picture is my wife's Mother's Day present. I am so proud of it, it was hard to give it to her. Ha! But she loves it, too. She has been drinking her morning coffee out of it for a week now. The mug I made for myself should not be pictured. It is all handle, and it doesn't hold enough coffee. The handle isn't the problem. I don't mind handles being big. I just wish the rest of it was. I'm a big mug kind of guy. I don't like refills.