Angel in Disguise

This week, I found myself in the ceramics lab, looking for a friend who was working on a project. I am so used to the creative space of the dance studios, with their empty aesthetic, the air begging to be danced in and movement arising from the floor to ceiling space. Comparatively, the ceramics studio is cluttered. A layer of dust covers the entire room, and pieces of half finished art hang off the rolling shelves. I tiptoed around like a bull in a china shop.

Finally, I wove my way through to the main table where I sat at a stool and took in the energy of the room - full, yet peaceful.

A man working nearby asked me if I wanted to glaze one of his pieces. I laughed, and made up an excuse about not doing art since middle school. He rolled his eyes, handed me a bowl, and instructed me to pick two colors and layer them however I wanted. "It's all art," he said.

While I painted, he asked me questions about myself, my studies, and my life. I told him I was a dancer, and he said he knew I had art in me. The conversation was incredibly normal, not forced, and not the least bit intrusive, but he genuinely listened to my answers. When I asked about him, he gave me abstract answers and no clear explanations. I asked if he was an art major or if he did ceramics for fun, and he said, "I do this to stay sane."

After he finished glazing a few of his pieces, he took me around and showed me all of his works. In total, he had about 20 to 30 pieces scattered around the studio in various stages of completion. Blue vases with skinny necks contrasted brown speckled bowls and fat green pots. I was in awe.

He gave me a bowl as he left and said I would have more use for it than he would.

I do not even know this man's name, but he made my Monday night, and whenever I grab my favorite necklace from the bowl on my desk, I will think of him - an angel in disguise in the ceramics lab.