Clay escape

I think the first time I played with clay—like—really played with clay, was in the 3rd grade. I was in a special art enrichment program at my elementary school. When all the other kids would go to recess, I would sit in a room with the other art kids, and just… make stuff.

I had enjoyed and explored in other mediums, but this was my first time working on a pottery wheel. If you can image small, 8 year old hands, it was easy to lose control of that thing. I wouldn’t play in clay again until high school, where I took Mr. Eager’s class (shoutout to Sunrise Mountain High School in Peoria, AZ). That course was all handbuilding—we actually didn’t even touch the wheel! We made teapots, we made shoes (I made my favorite shoe that I wore daily, Iversons) and we did it by slab and coil building.

Fast forward to my Senior year in high school, and while the other Seniors were done after lunch, free to hang out at Sonic, Grande’s, and do as they please, my parents insisted that I did not have a free period. So I was one of the few, lonely Seniors to return to campus after lunch. But looking back, I’m really grateful for that extra period.

I went back to take independent study ceramics. That was a really special time for me. There was another class happening during that time, but I had the freedom to again, like in 3rd grade, just play. I was able to absorb more information from Mr. Eager and just enjoy conversations over our shared-love of making stuff.

So then I headed out to Seattle. I’m working in my first big tech job. And I’m feeling a little burnt out. (I would later come to term this “grief of loss of artistry” or something similar.) So I enrolled in pottery classes at Pottery Northwest. I took a semester of handbuilding and then 2 semesters on the wheel.

I felt so much joy and calm when I was there and fortunately we had a lot of access to the building. So I would come in on nights outside of my regular class and on the weekends to continue to refine my craft.

Then I moved to Denver. At this point, I’m working in fintech, and I’m feeling this same sense that something is missing. So I enroll in pottery classes again at the Arts Students League of Denver. There I focused on throwing and repetition. I wanted to see if I could make a career out of this.

My pottery journey continues as I reside now in Oakland. Last year, I was accepted as a member of the Merritt Ceramics Studio. Unfortunately, I had to postpone my membership due to competing priorities. The bright side is that I am on a waiting list to reclaim my workstation there. And hopefully I’ll get started on my mini shop soon. Anywho…

Happy claying, y’all!

Wallpaper in disguise

You know when you’re renting, and there’s that long lease contract that says don’t do this and that? And there’s that part about not painting walls?

Well, I was going to follow those rules in my last apartment. I saw this really beautiful, tropical-y-ish peel-and-stick, renter-friendly wallpaper with gold foil accents on Pinterest. And then I saw the price—issa no for me, dawg.

Image of that unreasonably priced wallpaper.

So then I though to myself, “Why don’t you just paint it? You can always paint it back.”

A few trips to home depot and Michaels, and I was pretty happy with it! This was my first time painting on such a large scale, probably since I was in middle school when I had helped make some backdrops for a school play.

My friends and family said that I should leave it and that my landlord would probably like it. I primed it back white, just in case. And I did still receive a little line item on a bill at the end of my lease for paint.

I was actually pretty proud to challenge myself and make something that I really enjoyed both the process and the end result.

Moral of the story: You can always paint it back :)

Letting go of control

I’ve been painting since my childhood. I did my first oil painting in the 4th grade. Since then, I’ve gravitated towards acrylics, and mediums I felt like I could “control.” I’ve always struggled with watercolors because of this.

It’s interesting, I have two framed artworks from my niblings (niece and nephew)—watercolor pieces they created as toddlers. And to see them hanging up brings me joy, and perhaps some inspiration. It’s delightful to see that they are able to create something so beautiful, flowing, and beyond the grips of control, or what they think it should look like.

So over the pandemic, as I spent time at home, I decided to try to take on this watercolor challenge again. Before, it was kinda unnerving to watch the pigment spread in whichever way the water decided. I didn’t like that. I felt like it had to bend and bloom to my idealizations of the perfect watercolor painting that I saw on Pinterest. Don’t get me wrong, I know that technique matters. But this was an exercise in release for me. Here’s what I made.

Photo of an abstract 18 x 24 watercolor with hues of orange, violet, and blue, forming tiny sections of organic shapes

Three watercolor paintings, one of a prickly pear cactus, a coffee cup and saucer in the middle, and a collection of sage-y stems on the right

An image of a watercolor painting with purple and orange florals