I made six plates today.
Start to finish, it took me about an hour per plate. That’s just way too much time. I love plates, but they’re killing me. They take so long to make and they’re challenging as hell to get right.
I’m bitching, I suppose, but it really took something out of me mentally to struggle with these things today. It shakes my confidence. I mean, who spends half a day working on six plates? I do, I guess.
I really appreciate the end result, though. More than any of my other pots, I forget about all the hours that go into each plate when it’s time for lunch and I pull one from the cupboard. I’ll try to remember that the next time I sit down for another six. ∆
