Quantity and quality
Feb. 3rd, 2017 07:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
offcntrI came across this story on a writing blog, encouraging writers not to self-edit themselves into inarticulacy. From Fandoms, pairings and slash:
There was an experiment a professor did. I think it was pottery students. He did an experiment of “quality” vs “quantity”. One half of the class he told; you have to make as many pots as possible. Good pots, bad pots, shitty pots, whatever. The more pots you make, the higher your grade.
The other half of the class were told, “you can make only one pot”. But that pot had to be perfect. The quality had to be high; the highest quality pot would get the best mark.
But when it came to the grading, they noticed something weird.
All the best quality pots were in the ‘quantity’ group.
The guys who were literally churning out pots, trying to make as many as possible, not concentrating on the quality. But every pot they made, made them better at making pots. By the end of the month (I think it was a month) - they had some pretty awesome pots coming out, because they enjoying finding all the ways and all the things they could do to make all their pots. Where as the ‘quality’ guys had spent their time reading up on pots, and technique, and researching and planning; which was all great but they’d had no further practice at actually making pots.
The best way to get really good at something, the only way to be really good at something, is to make lots of shitty attempts at that thing several of which will fail. If all you create are perfect things then you won’t improve, because how can you improve on perfect?
tl:dr MAKE YOUR SHITTY POTS.
It's totally true. Lord knows how many terrible pots I made on my way to competence, starting with nine dozen hummingbird feeders a week back throwing for Slippery Bank.
And just because I'm pretty confident in my throwing these days doesn't make it any less true. Keep practicing. Keep making. Keep improving.
There was an experiment a professor did. I think it was pottery students. He did an experiment of “quality” vs “quantity”. One half of the class he told; you have to make as many pots as possible. Good pots, bad pots, shitty pots, whatever. The more pots you make, the higher your grade.
The other half of the class were told, “you can make only one pot”. But that pot had to be perfect. The quality had to be high; the highest quality pot would get the best mark.
But when it came to the grading, they noticed something weird.
All the best quality pots were in the ‘quantity’ group.
The guys who were literally churning out pots, trying to make as many as possible, not concentrating on the quality. But every pot they made, made them better at making pots. By the end of the month (I think it was a month) - they had some pretty awesome pots coming out, because they enjoying finding all the ways and all the things they could do to make all their pots. Where as the ‘quality’ guys had spent their time reading up on pots, and technique, and researching and planning; which was all great but they’d had no further practice at actually making pots.
The best way to get really good at something, the only way to be really good at something, is to make lots of shitty attempts at that thing several of which will fail. If all you create are perfect things then you won’t improve, because how can you improve on perfect?
tl:dr MAKE YOUR SHITTY POTS.
It's totally true. Lord knows how many terrible pots I made on my way to competence, starting with nine dozen hummingbird feeders a week back throwing for Slippery Bank.
And just because I'm pretty confident in my throwing these days doesn't make it any less true. Keep practicing. Keep making. Keep improving.
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Date: 2017-02-04 12:05 pm (UTC)I've just left Facebook and I miss Dooley -- so I was excited to find a potter in Eugene whose words I could follow.
Cheers!
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Date: 2017-02-05 02:23 am (UTC)I'm Frank also, so I hope this doesn't get too confusing. Where at UO do you cook? Lived and ate in Carson complex my first year in grad school (over 30 years ago. Yikes!)
Have fired in wood before, though never anagama. I use a gas kiln now, as the kind of painting I do would be sandblasted away in a wood fire.
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Date: 2017-02-05 03:14 am (UTC)I've cooked at Carson, and Hamilton, and in the old Central Kitchen in the basement of Carson. Now I work in the new Central Kitchen on Columbia.
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Date: 2017-02-05 04:13 am (UTC)I assume Francis Xavier?
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Date: 2017-02-05 01:23 pm (UTC)