the candid (but not-so-silly) questions I asked before stepping into pottery
Before I ever touched clay, I was full of questions — some basic, some bizarre, all real. This post gathers those early thoughts: the ones that felt too obvious to ask out loud, but turned out to be exactly the right place to start.
before clay: all the questions, none of the answers
Pottery, quesako — as we like to say in not-quite-French?
Before my first pottery class, here’s what I knew: clay exists, wheels spin, kilns are hot. That’s it. So no surprise that the questions started piling up — fast. And not the elegant, well-formed questions of someone who’s read a few books. No. The chaotic, honest kind. The kind you whisper into the Google search bar at 11:00 PM or dump onto ChatGPT like a deranged squirrel hoarding beginner questions. Which, let’s be honest, I absolutely did.
Some felt too obvious to ask out loud. Others spiralled into full philosophical territory — is clay a renewable resource? But honestly? There’s no such thing as a stupid question (ask one and feel daft for five seconds, or don’t and stay clueless forever). Most didn’t have straightforward answers. Some still haunt my atelier to this day, shaping the way I practise.
This isn’t a beginner’s guide or a glossary of ceramics terms. It’s a snapshot of that brilliant, baffling, overwhelming moment when you’re standing at the edge of a new craft, hands still clean, brain full of half-formed questions. Some are technical (what clay should I use if my kiln only goes to 1050°C?). Some are conceptual (what does handbuilding actually mean?). Others are delightfully unhinged (why does everyone look so serious while centring clay?).
What follows is a series of the very raw questions I asked myself long before I pinched my first pot — some might feel familiar if you’ve ever been curious about clay.
Each one has now grown into its own journal entry, because it turns out they weren’t silly, at all.
beginner pottery questions (and the hopefully useful answers)
Part 1 – The Clay Confusion Begins
What’s the difference between ‘pottery’ and ‘ceramics’?
Not as obvious as it sounds. Think function vs material — and yes, toilets count as ceramics.
Where do we get clay? Is it an infinite resource?
Short answer: no. Long answer involves riverbeds, reclaim buckets and (super long) geological time.
Should I take a beginner’s course?
I asked this before touching clay. Then again after touching clay.
Can I really learn pottery online?
The internet giveth… but not the muscle memory.
Part 2 – Who Am I in This Mud?
What does “handbuilt” mean?
No wheel, no rules — just you, your hands, and gravity doing its best.
Why does the wheel seem to be the norm?
Maybe it’s tradition, maybe it’s efficiency, or maybe it’s that scene from Ghost.
I have the impression that there are mostly women in pottery — is that right?
Could be, ask the mud 🙂 From where I stand, the ceramicists I admire split pretty evenly between women and men. I always seek balance in life (and in clay, if you ask me).
Are all the ceramics I see in shops made by hand?
Sometimes. But if they all look identical and stack perfectly, you might be in for a surprise.
Part 3 – Technique Panic (and the Mug Math)
Why does centring take forever?
Because if your clay isn’t centred, your pot wobbles, collapses, or grows a personality you didn’t ask for.
What’s the difference between ‘slip’ and ‘glaze’?
Slip goes on early, adds colour or texture. Glaze comes later (often over the slip), melts to make things shiny, sealed, and (more importantly) safe for whatever you’re eating or drinking.
Do I need to wedge clay fresh out of the bag?
Technically no. Spiritually? Always!
How much clay for a mug?
Depends. How big’s your thirst, how thick’s your wall, and how tragic is your trimming?
still wondering? good. that means you’ve started!
These were my first questions, my actual prelude to learning pottery.
Some still tap me on the shoulder while I’m slicing a slab or glazing a pot (or sleeping).
If you’re asking the same — welcome. You’re already in.
Go on then. Pick one. Let’s see where it leads.