The ceramic embryo in the transparent colored glaze still faintly reflects the trace of rubbing the fingertips. Although the fingerprints are sealed in the thin glaze, whenever my fingertips touch the smooth glaze, it seems that a clean stream is slowly flowing into my heart from the glaze, pouring out every bit of hard work and sweat.
One birthday of the sixth grade, I never imagined that the birthday gift my parents gave me was to let me go to the ceramic shop to make a ceramic work of my own as a birthday gift. I walked into the ceramic shop with an expectation and walked past the fence in front of the store. I was amazed by the exquisite ceramic works one by one, which made me more eager to shape this work.
Sitting on a wooden chair, under the guidance of the ceramic teacher, I carefully took a lump of clay and put it on the turntable. The turntable started to rotate under the drive of the motor. After the teacher told me how to do it, I quietly left. I gently hold the clay in my hands, and in the rotation of the turntable, I pull the upper clay up a little bit, pull out the neck of a bottle, and at the same time relax slightly at the lower part, making a round belly of a vase. Everything is going well, and I can't help being immersed in a comfortable joy. I feel that what I am holding in my hand is not clay, but a girl's soft waist, dancing in circles.
Soon, the hollowing step came, but the situation took a turn for the worse. I gently pressed it down in the middle with two fingers, but when it was halfway down, the whole pottery embryo suddenly escaped from my control like a runaway wild horse, and danced wildly on the turntable. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to straighten the pottery embryo in a hurry, but I found that the pottery embryo had not recovered, and the clay was still a little from my fingertips.
I almost cried, watching the achievements just now go down the drain. There seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, anxious and helpless. I quickly grabbed a mass of clay and made it, but the result was a tragedy of repeating the same mistakes. I slumped in my chair, helpless and turned me into a pool of powerless water, which could no longer stir up surging waves. For a period of time, my mind seemed to be a dead ash, and the silence was filled with confusion, and I fell into a confused meditation.
But suddenly a spark seemed to rekindle in a piece of ashes, and I suddenly remembered: by the way, I may use uneven force to do this! I started the turntable again with a try, and took a lump of clay to challenge again. This time, I settled down and carried out every step with great care. Once again, I went to the hollowing step. I took a deep breath, breathed steadily, held the pottery embryo, and felt the power of the turntable movement carefully. In the round rotation, I vaguely felt that there was a midpoint of the force! I suddenly woke up and seemed to understand the mystery. I slowly inserted my finger into this point and held my breath. From top to bottom, I tried my best to use the force evenly, and I didn't dare to neglect it. Then, I exerted further force outward. Slowly, a hollow pottery bottle has quietly formed, and I felt a surge of joy in my heart. With this regained confidence, I further processed this ceramic embryo, slowed down the turntable, and smoothed the rough edges with my fingertips. I almost held my breath, fearing that a little abrupt breath would ruin the works that I had worked so hard to shape.