Making pottery, or, appropriately, creating pottery falls into an artistic subgenre that includes fishing, baseball and Civil-War re-enacting, to name a few.

In other words it's both a discipline and pastime, and tends to make the practitioner deeply reflective, even philosophical. It's also an art form that, in the past decade or so, has become increasingly popular among all types of people, professional and amateur alike.

Becky Stein/Special

Instructor Alice Murphy and students work at Kickwheel Pottery Supply in Tucker. Folks from all walks of life turn to pottery as a creative outlet. It's surprisingly challenging.

Becky Stein/Special

At Kickwheel, Ryan Porter of Decatur works on a piece made with rare black clay.

Renee' Hannans Henry/AJC

An expert at the potter's wheel, Polly Ann Sherrill deftly forms a bowl for a local restaurant. 'I think the human spirit craves something to make,' she says.

"Pottery," said student Estelle Hart of Stone Mountain, "is cheaper than therapy, plus you can give what you make as Christmas presents."

Reflection doesn't get any deeper than that. Or, as Megan Winokur added, "When I'm in a bad mood, I find myself throwing big. Know what I mean? I just get me a heavy ol' chunk of clay and throw it down."

Winokur and Hart discussed the ethics and character of pottery during a recent class inside the studio at Kickwheel Pottery Supply in Tucker, where Winokur is co-owner.

Kickwheel is a large warehouse/showroom known throughout the Southeast for making its own clay blends, about 40 in all. But Kickwheel also opens its studio to all potters every day of the week, and hosts a series of eight-week classes taught by full-time potters.

On this particular weeknight the instructor was Alice Murphy, 32, who has an in-home studio in Suwanee and also teaches elementary school art in Buford.

"I think there are so many reasons why people take a pottery class," Murphy said. "Part of it is social — people tend to develop friendships within a class. Also, clay is so tactile and soothing that making pots is a stress reliever.

"But the wheel [upon which clay is thrown and ultimately shaped] is very challenging," she said. "It takes several eight-week courses before [a student] starts to get it down. This is a serious commitment, and I think most of the students I see are willing to make that commitment because each of them has an artistic side they can't necessarily express in everyday life."

Pottery is an ancient art form, perhaps one of the very oldest with direct connections to the earth. The manual potter's wheel, or kick wheel, was invented in Mesopotamian times, or possibly earlier.

Though pottery's endured for centuries, especially in functional, everyday forms, many clay professionals believe the current widespread esteem of pottery-as-art is unprecedented.

"When I started back in the '60s, pottery was associated with hippies, as a way to get close to mother earth," said Christine Winokur (Megan's mother-in-law), co-founder of Kickwheel. "But today you're seeing a lot more professionals using it as a hobby. We have students who are doctors, scientists, lawyers, you name it."

Polly Ann Sherrill, a legendary intown Atlanta potter, has her own theory on why creating pottery has a broader contemporary audience.

"People are looking for something — I can't think of another way to say it — something to be happy about," she said. "We've had two or three generations of machine-made, mall-bought stuff, and people are getting tired of that.

"I think the human spirit craves something to make," she said. "Every living, breathing person has a creative side, and I think more people are looking for that because they're dissatisfied with something in their life or job."

Murphy's Kickwheel class features six intermediate-level students, meaning they've taken at least one previous class. It's a multi-generational mix, from 25-year-old cabinetmaker Ryan Porter of Decatur to 68-year-old Stone Mountain resident Ann Pass, a retired nurse.

Porter offers a different take on why pottery strikes a mystic chord with him.

"It's definitely a stress reliever like everybody says," he said. "But for me, it also helps in my work. It makes me more precise, it helps me focus more, and it helps me see dimensions better. Most important, it helps open my mind to better ideas."

Instructor Murphy spends part of each class reiterating clay-molding technique. Sitting at the wheel, her right foot remains constantly on the pedal, varying wheel speed depending on whether brute force or subtle shaping is required.

"I'm righthanded," Murphy said, "so I put my right hand on the bottom to apply pressure, while guiding the shape with my left. Then I've got my [left] thumb available to open a hole after I've centered it. The whole thing is about coordinating your hands while keeping my elbows in at the hips for a steady balance."

Peggy Walker, another student from Decatur, watched closely and shook her head in admiration

"It's not as easy as Alice makes it look," she said. "I've been taking classes for 2 1/2 years. When I first started, I thought I'd just run out the door, learn it, then make me a mess of pots and have a good ol' time. Didn't work out that way. It took me six months just to learn to center [the clay on the wheel]."

Hart echoed this assessment of pottery's challenges.

"It takes a lot of practice," she said. "If I didn't have a husband, I'd be here all the time.

"Here's the thing," Hart added. "If you don't center it right, it gets all whopper-jawed [i.e., askew] on the wheel. By golly, when that happens, the clay's likely to go flying across the room and whack somebody upside the head."