It was morning, and the studio was empty, except for Khushnud and I. “Where is everyone?” I asked. “Eating plov,” Khushnud replied casually, as if that explained everything. It did not. After a bit more prodding, I learned that every traditional Uzbek wedding begins with plov, a traditional rice and meat […]
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Khushnud and I were chatting at the pottery wheel, as always. For two people from different cultures, different generations, different religions, and opposite sexes, we found no shortage of things to talk about. At first, all we shared was a common language, Russian, and a love of pottery. Within a […]
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But by the third day, I had settled into the rhythm of life in the studio. We ate breakfast of bread, cheese, and tea and then Khushnud and I spent the morning at the pottery wheels, throwing new pieces, decorating, and trimming whatever had dried enough to handle. Before long, it […]
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I woke up the next morning with my heart fluttering. It was the first day of my pottery retreat. I threw on older clothes I didn’t mind getting dirty with clay and hurried outside. I hadn’t really seen the courtyard the night before. We arrived after dark, when little was […]
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It was late evening, and we had just arrived at the pottery studio of one of the most famous ceramic artists in Uzbekistan. We were exhausted and sweaty and weren’t sure if our long day of travel was over or if we would now need to look for alternative accommodation. […]
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