Making the Botero Vase
This week I had the absolute pleasure of making objects under the masterful guidance of Emma from Pot Studio. If you don’t know, Pot is a very aesthetic ceramics studio with both wheel and hand building classes in Tugun on the Gold Coast of Australia. It’s quickly become one of my favourite places to work, and Emma’s instruction was inspiring, easy to follow, and delightfully fun.
I have to admit… I’ve had love-hate relationship with pottery. Like many, I went through a ceramics phase during the pandemic, which lasted for about two years before I tried my hand at wheel throwing - a practice I thought I would excel at, (I was wrong).
It has taken me a long time to cultivate the little skill in pottery that I have, and while I love a challenge, I’m hardly a fan of things that require prolonged effort. What I do love about pottery is that you get to play with mud and make remarkable things like our ancestors did. What I hate about it is the patience. I didn’t come with much patience when they made me; It’s a thing I’m building (and fighting) as I go.
So I took a few years off of pottery-making. The last wheel course I took was dreadfully messy, not to mention boring, and put me off for quite a while. But last weekend I went back to the studio to learn a completely new technique with no expectation in mind.
I was delighted with the whole experience. The process of building took me into a state of flow that I haven't experienced in a long time. It’s funny how something as simple as playing with clay can awaken so much joy — the kind of joy that reminds you how good it feels to be present, to slow down, and to get your hands dirty, (but not as dirty as wheel throwing. Yuck).
The Botero Vase was the result of this experiment, and has fully reignited my love of clay.
The Botero Vase itself is a playful, whimsical shape not unlike the rotund artworks of Fernando Botero. Fernando Botero is known for his exaggerated proportions and playful, rounded forms. His work is all about volume, fullness, and boldness — qualities that I found myself gravitating toward in the design of the vase. Instead of striving for sharp angles or sleek lines, I leaned into soft, curvy shapes that feel warm and inviting, much like the whimsical nature of Botero’s art. The result is a vase with exaggerated, rounded features, giving it a playful and confident presence.
What I love about Botero’s influence is how it encouraged me to explore form freely and intuitively, embracing imperfection. Just like Botero’s figures, the vase isn’t about realism but about evoking a feeling — in this case, a sense of joy, fullness, and character. Even as I await the final result after firing and glazing, I’m already proud of the journey this piece represents. Its round belly and little handles are not perfect, and that’s what I love about it. Every bump and groove tells the story of the process, the experimentation.
Pottery, with all its frustrations and joys, is one of the best ways to tap into the magic of making. I can’t wait to get back to the studio and see where this revival of clay-love takes me.
PS: You can buy my favourite pottery tools —> Here