I’ve always struggled with perfectionism in my art, mainly when I don’t know how to approach a concept or can’t decide when to stop working on a piece. In some ways, I appreciate this trait because it pushes me to create a work I’m proud of. But other times, it becomes overwhelming, and I avoid the piece altogether. There are so many projects I’ve never finished simply because I feel like I’ll never be able to finish them in the way I want. Even now, I have a watercolor painting I worked on for days straight over the winter break, struggled on a specific part of it, and haven’t touched it since. After a while, I’ll decide it’s finally time to finish it, and I will, but then the cycle repeats with another project. It’s not necessarily a problem, just something I’ve noticed about my artistic process. Still, I want to start following through with my pieces because I learn much more that way, even if they don’t turn out as expected. 

At first, clay felt impossible to work with. Though it has some flexibility, clay requires specific timing and attention to detail to be successful. For example, it dries quickly, so there’s only a small window to shape, modify, and add to it before it becomes unworkable or starts cracking. On the other hand, if the clay gets too wet during the throwing process, it can completely collapse. Needless to say, I was intimidated. I spent so much time being afraid to make a mistake or create something that wasn’t “good enough.” But, once I got comfortable enough in the studio, with my peers, and as a student, I started to play. Throwing on the wheel was an entirely new world, but one that I loved. It became less about the result and more about the process. I learned to be okay with failure. Some of my favorite days in class were when we did speed throwing – throwing with the intention to cut the piece in half at the end. Working under a time constraint, without overthinking or worrying about making a “bad” piece, was the best way to break free from perfectionism. Most times, my pieces didn’t even make it to the end, either collapsing because I threw the walls too thin or becoming uneven after a failed trimming attempt. But those failures taught me the most about how to apply what I learned and improve.

Some of my favorite days in class were when we did speed throwing – throwing with the intention to cut the piece in half at the end.

Now, speed throwing is still my favorite, and I appreciate failure even more. In fact, I recycled most of the pieces I’ve made since returning from winter break. And the best part? That’s okay. I’m no longer afraid of making a bad piece. Every mistake helps me learn, and every collapsed piece makes me want to try again. Learning to let go has been the most valuable lesson ceramics has taught me, and I’m excited to keep learning, improving, and embracing imperfection.