West Street Potters, tucked away in the top of Farnham Pottery, is a particularly magical place, and the time goes so quickly that not too much is ever achieved, by me anyway.
I have found that I'm not particularly skilled in this discipline. I arrogantly thought that being a creative sort of person, the whole business of making stuff out of clay would come as second nature. But this is not the case, and after 2 years I have improved very little. But, while I most certainly joined so I could adorn my home with Barbara Hepworth-esque splendor, I realised quite quickly that being gifted here is not the point or the pleasure of it. But to bring something wobbly home and find a space for it to live, especially on the rare occasions that you're pleased with it, is the true reward. The lamp base above is my pride and joy! Unfortunately, I am not at all prolific so this doesn't happen very often, but if ever a past time made me feel brilliant just by doing it, it's this.