Caption of Jasmine Park
Hey there, just got back from something really amazing.
So, I’ve been diving headfirst into pottery these days, and today’s session at the Clay House Studio was just… something else. I can’t even begin to describe how serene it felt to have my hands buried in that cool, pliable clay. There’s something incredibly liberating about molding life from a shapeless blob, like a little piece of performance art that makes time cease, even if just for a moment.
You know how I’ve been grappling with all those editing deadlines? Well, this felt like the perfect antidote. The studio had this gentle hum in the background—the kind where you realize that everyone in the room is engaged in their respective meditative journeys. We were like a hive, each of us creating, but still very much connected in spirit, like characters in one of those experimental films we used to watch at UCLA.
I found myself thinking about the way clay responds to touch, almost like a script responding to a director’s vision. It was pretty wild, kind of reminded me of how editing feels in a sense, shaping something until it speaks the emotional truth you’re aiming for. As clichéd as it sounds, it’s like therapy. The emerging patterns on my bowl also made me think of the swirls in our lives, you know? How one decision flows into the next.
Oh, and before I forget! While spinning the wheel, I had this random epiphany about the last script I’m working on. Like, maybe using clay as an allegory for character development— molding, reshaping, and sometimes just letting it be. I don’t know, does that sound too artsy? It just connected a lot of dots that were floating around aimlessly in my mind.
And guess what? Luca was there too, alongside Naomi. It felt like a mini-reunion, both of us silently making wonky ceramic dishes next to each other, battling our competitive spirits. Classic Luca, always managing to craft something out of chaos—even if it means getting elbow-deep in some clay or, you know, in some philosophical debate about bees later on.
Thinking about the shared energy in that room today got me reflecting on the stuff we talked about last time. How maybe we pour ourselves into these creations, not just to express emotions, but to solidify our personal narratives outside our heads. Kind of like immortalizing moments— those secret passages of life hidden in plain sight.
Oh, I wanted to ask, speaking of immortalizing moments, have you been working on your photography portfolio updates? I keep remembering those amazing shots you showcased at that last gallery—I swear, each one was like a visual love letter to time.
Anyway, the whole serene vibe today got me nostalgic for our college days, back when life seemed to move in sepia tones—thanks to both literal sunsets and far less literal ones. Ah, but it’s more than just nostalgia; it feels like anchoring onto something solid while navigating these subtly chaotic seas of adulthood.
There’s something perpetually intriguing about the way clay and I have these little silent conversations, right? I was mid-spin when it occurred to me that it’s not all about the end product. It’s more about that unwavering patience it takes to not let the wheel dictate your mood. Honestly, it’s like editing in a way—sometimes you just have to let the story unravel on its own terms.
Luca today was a hoot—classic him. We had this unspoken race going on, trying not to let our bowls flop in front of each other. You should have seen his concentration face! Made me think how we’re all just layering our personalities onto this canvas of “grown-up life,” slowly figuring out what sits right with us.
Oh, sideways thought! You know how we keep raving about the nuances of design? Well, Naomi brought up this innovative streak from her fashion background, and it got me sketching a lot of parallels in my head. It’s fascinating how working with different mediums, even something tactile like clay, can kind of shake up your perspective on art and expression, right? We even joked about starting a monthly ceramics showcase in our little circle, because why not merge all our creative forces?
Speaking of gathering energies, you know those mornings when you wake up, and everything feels just right, till you dive into emails and poof, it’s vanished? Today might have been one of those golden exceptions. Maybe because of the inherent calm this pottery thing brings? Must be.
Plus, the way the sunlight wove through those giant windows at the studio—it was the kind of theatrical lighting that films crave. I bet you could have captured a whole portfolio there…
And the music—it was like nature joined instruments; breezy harmonies and the whirr of pottery wheels in unison. It’s moments like these when you feel like life’s a silt of cinematic snapshots. You know what I mean? Catching a glimpse of Luca molding his signature “abstract art” with more clay stuck to his apron than the wheel—honestly, that sight alone was worthy of some sly photography.
Oh, and did I tell you about Leila’s idea of blending fashion design with floral inspirations today? She was sketching at the gardens and texting all these quirky inspirations. It’s moments like these that weave our random hobbies into this vivid tapestry. Just imagining melding all our wild inspirations at one creative outing makes me giggle.
Yet there I was, molding a bowl, meandering through those thoughts like it was a stream of creative consciousness. Pottery induces that kind of healthy mind-wander. Somehow, it felt akin to the travel log we talked about last time, except this time the journey was all internal. More earthy. Left me eager for another splash of inspiration to tell a new tale—with words this time!
Just when I thought the world couldn’t let me exhale more profoundly, the universe threw another curveball that floored me in all the right ways. Mid-pottery, would you believe a shaft of sunlight caught the lip of my half-formed bowl? It was like a spotlight in a noir film—perfectly dramatic and enough to pull me out of the pottery trance for a flicker.
At that moment, it hit me—how art, the vessel for so much of what swirls within us, sometimes chooses to reveal our truths in escapist moments. There’s this fascinating exchange between the art we create and the emotions we conceal or share. Crafting that bowl became less about fashioning clay and more about parsing through the many layers of “me.” And spending those meditative minutes beside Luca and Naomi… it was like retro indie film vibes.
Oh, and about that indie vibe—I’ve been mulling over how these gatherings, simple but profound, act like anchors. Remember our UCLA days—long nights spent volleying ideas across dorm room walls, where a single mention of an obscure French film could spark multi-hour discussions? Today felt reminiscent of that in an odd way.
And just this afternoon, this wave of gratitude crashed over me for having these silent conversations with myself, entirely orchestrated by my orbiting circle of friends. Leila was designing the most ethereal mood boards with whispers of garden inspiration, and it got me thinking about how we all borrow little snippets from each other’s realms. You’re pulling a thread here, sprinkling an idea there—like a patchwork of creativity flowing seamlessly across different mediums.
Before I drift too far into the metaphysical (classic me), I keep returning to this vision of us crafting a collective project. Doesn’t have to be grandiose, like a small exhibition or maybe a public installation piece marrying all our specialties. How wild would that be, building a tangible narrative of our myriad interactions and memories?
Ah, and while we mention collective strength, the pottery wheel spun a revelation that reminded me of director’s chairs and editing suites. You were there during college when I found my calling, cutting scenes ’till they whispered magic, turning into that quiet detective unearthing the soul of a project. Pottery echoed that search—an introspective excavation, finding unexpected stories in textures and contours.
Can’t shake how the day’s tender serendipity reinstates my indulgence in these moments—echoes of thoughts unfurling then snapping into neatly edited insights. Yet, there I was, so rooted in clay, watching art and life chatter back and forth.
There’s much more to unfold, but I’ll pause here, lest this turns into an epic saga.
