On Christmas morning a few days ago, I found myself throwing knives at a piece of plywood with my father. There was something so real to the act of it. There were so many things to be conscious of, like the weight of the knife, and the sound of it when it successfully stuck to the target.

I could compare it to throwing darts but throwing knives was so much more satisfying. Because so many things could go wrong, ending in an unsuccessful throw, with the knife bouncing off the wood and clanging loudly on the concrete of the basement floor. There were so many more things that needed to be done just right, compared to dart throwing. And I guess that’s where the appeal of things lie to me.

1) Challenge. Imperfection. 2) Tactile sensation.

I should try pottery.



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