On learning to be bad at something in public

I started pottery in March and everything I make looks like weather. Lopsided bowls, a mug with a handle that leans away from you as if offended.

What surprised me was not the failure but how quickly the shame wore off. By week four I was showing people the bad mug on purpose. There is a strange freedom in being visibly a beginner at thirty-four.

I think we hide our unfinished selves too carefully. The unfinished self is the most interesting draft.