- A four-part encounter with art therapy disguised as pottery lessons;
- Absolute beginners welcome; clay holds no grudges;
- Sessions encourage emotional outbursts—just aim them at the clay, not your neighbor;
- Location: Petrochefalos, Heraklion, suspiciously close to civilization;
- Dates: May 17, 24, 31 & June 7, always from 17:30 to 19:30;
- Reserve via Viber / WhatsApp: 6939053625.
Art Therapy with Pottery promises four evenings of sculpting both emotion and wet earth into forms your therapist would be proud of. This isn’t your typical summer hobby. In this studio, emotions are neither repressed nor loudly announced; they are mushed, wedged, pinched, and squashed into something resembling art.
Participants are invited to take a trial run at introspection, guided by the less-than-steady hands of pottery. Feelings take shape—sometimes as lopsided bowls, sometimes as vaguely alarming creature mugs. No prior experience is necessary. Like any true confidant, the clay will keep your secrets and never roll its eyes. Personal revelations are welcome. Meltdowns are optional but encouraged.
The Benefits: Or, How Pottery Might Save You from Your Mind
To call this workshop “therapeutic” is almost redundant—the clay has seen things. The sessions offer:
- Honest engagement with your emotional baggage, best left at the door, but destined to appear at the wheel;
- Quiet encouragement to dig through your feelings, in search of an inner peace or at least a decent ashtray;
- An environment where self-respect may grow, unless burned away in the kiln;
- Pottery as an alternative to screaming into a void, with far less echo.
Set in the relative quiet of Petrochefalos, just ten minutes from PAGNI, each session is politely scheduled to avoid the most inconvenient hours. For those who flourish in chaos, note: attendance operates on a strict first-come, first-served principle, which means yes, even your midlife crisis must wait its turn.
If the time doesn’t suit, there’s no need for existential despair—reach out, plead your case, and perhaps fortune will change.
Nothing here is sold; it’s observed. The workshop offers a chance to confront clay and self equally, with a polite reminder that both may be stubborn.
In a society obsessed with fast fixes and self-help guides, Koumoulia Ceramics delivers only the slowest shortcut to mental balance: a four-session encounter with clay. If that isn’t progress, what is?
