That was wishful thinking. I would walk into class with a head full of ideas. I knew exactly what I wanted to make.
However, on the wheel, the mind and the hands just did not coordinate. I wedged. I centred. Or at least I thought it was centred. Collared and raised the wall as I was told. The beautiful bowl I had in mind before class, looked nothing but that same lump of clay, initially wedged, was now wet, stumpy and warped over to one side with a gaping void in the centre. For those who are trying to visualize this bowl, think cave man!
The next few practices felt like stone age years.