Well, it is official…I will need to repeat the West Fargo Park District’s Clay for Two class again next year. I was hoping that I would pull through the class with at least some semblance of success, but no such luck. I picked up the finished clay pieces the other day and it immediately became clear that my child is the more advanced clay artist in the family. My work was…well…I believe remedial is the word.
When I took the clay class I recognized right away that I did not have the soul of an artist in me (see May 13 & 14 blog entries); but I thought that at some basic level I could perhaps create something that is passable. During my two day clay experience, my friend David took great delight in teasing me about my limitations. I told him at the time that should he continue to enjoy so throughly my humble recognition that I had an abysmal lack of talent for sculpture that there would be some price extracted…perhaps, I mused, I would give my creation to him as a gift so that he would be forced to accept it graciously and display it in a place of honor in his home where I can see it when I come over to visit. I think he thought I was joking. I wasn’t.
Here is my sad little bird.
And here is David with his gift which I expect to see prominently displayed in a place of honor in his home.
Let this be a lesson to anyone who wants to torment me about my clay limitations in the future…things could get ugly.
Day three hundred and fifty-four of the new forty – obla di obla da