Ceramics, Robotics, and More. Semester 4.

Halfway done! I have alot of mixed feelings about this – as a junior I get to take a lot more cool classes, I have a better idea of the things I can do, and more importantly, the things I can’t or aren’t worth it. I have a lovely group of people I hang out with; it has been great so far.

At the same time, it’s hard to shake the feeling that time is slipping away. There’s so much I want to do, and barely enough hours in the day.

One exciting update from this semester: I got hired as a student associate at the ceramics studio! My role mostly involved running handbuilding sessions – no throwing yet, since I’ve been too swamped to learn :'(( – as well as carrying out essential studio maintenance like loading and unloading kilns, mixing glazes, and more.

My Saturday morning shifts were my favourite. I’d wake up around 8, grab breakfast, and head to the studio for my 10 a.m. shift. The space has these beautiful, tall ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. The way the sunlight pours in through them in the morning felt incredible.

Talking others through the process of making things was a bit challenging at first. It requires a kind of precision I wasn’t used to—being very specific with what you’re describing and how. Since I usually work alone when I make things, that pathway between what my hands are doing and how to explain it out loud wasn’t very well built.

An undergrad with a visual impairment came in for a session once, and it was really interesting translating something I usually think of as very visual into how it feels—some glazes feel chalky, some feel colder than others. Even with the same clay body, some pieces have a glass-like tinkle when tapped, while others make a duller sound.

It’s been such an absolute joy seeing all the cool and funky things people make. So many pieces are handmade gifts, and it’s always touching to see the care and time people pour into creating something for someone else—and how proud they are when they finish.

I’ve been doing ceramics for about a year now, and I think I’d like to change up my process a bit. I’ve mostly been experimenting and making whatever feels fun in the moment, which has been great. But going forward, I definitely want to become more technically skilled. I really enjoy the process of making the things I do, and I never want to lose sight of the fact that it’s okay to be bad at something – the point is to enjoy the process. There’s already so much we’re expected to be good at. I think it’s time to learn new things (and be bad at them!) – learn how to throw, build more refined or intentional pieces, maybe even try my hand at realism or sculpting with more anatomical accuracy.

One of the perks of working in the studio was access to the space outside of working hours. Genuinely, being able to mess around with clay for 30 minutes at 11 pm after a hard day did wonders for my mental wellbeing, haha. Here is some of the stuff I made:

First, to start with my in-progress pieces that I couldn’t complete:

The first is a clock (that I unfortunately did not photograph!) The numbers 3, 6, 9, and 12 are traditional digits, but all the other hour markers are magnet-attachable charms, each representing something I’ve loved throughout my life — there’s a Sorting Hat, an R2D2, a soot sprite, a spider, and more. I still have three more charms to make and need to glaze everything, but it’s been such a fun project. I’m really looking forward to finishing it (even if it ends up living under my bed during the school year because I have zero storage space).

This one’s a planter — and the legs were definitely the trickiest part. It was a challenge getting them to dry without collapsing under the weight of the unsupported clay, and I had to be really careful during the building and drying process to keep them intact. I’m planning to glaze the pants with this matte, denim-esque glaze we have in the studio, and eventually plant a little succulent in it. Storing it for the summer was such a hassle — I packed it in a box cushioned with sweaters, so fingers crossed they worked their magic and the piece didn’t break!

Moving onto the completed pieces:

This was another mug that I made. The underglaze ran – which is the first time I’ve had it happen to me. But I like how it turned out, regardless. I’ve been thinking of making tiles in this style, but I’m not sure what I would use the tiles for. Maybe a few other mugs?

I discovered underglaze pencils this year, and was really intrigued by ceramics pieces that looked like folded up paper. I made a couple of cups and a paper aeroplane. The pictures I clicked were clicked in a hurry, and really wash out the details, but here they are:

These were made by scoring lines into the clay body. After the bisque firing, I dabbed underglaze into the lines, and wiped the excess off with a wet sponge. Finally, I went in and made some doodles with underglaze pencils, and dipped each piece in clear glaze three times.

This toad:

He’s so ugly and sad. I love him.

He was actually made as a submission for my “Education and Democracy” class. The prompt of the assignment was:

“Make a poster, manifesto, song, poem, artwork, or other “expressive” statement advocating for some kind of educational reform that you consider to be urgently needed. This could concern preschool, primary, secondary, college, or graduate levels. You could focus on access, inclusion, equality, diversity, pedagogy, curriculum, tracking, disability, purpose, assessment, expectations, financing, or any other aspect. Whatever form you choose, focus on getting your message across as powerfully as you can. This need not be long–just focus on the key message and on making the maximum impact.”

My natural inclination was towards making a clay piece – that, and in all honesty, I just wanted an excuse to not have to write. A week before this was due, I was talking to my TA about this, and I discovered then that they were expecting a written piece for this. I was always late to lecture because of my previous class being all the way across campus, so I had missed all the samples they had shown. My professor was incredibly nice about it, however. The professor and TA both said they were actually excited about what I had made, and would be happy to accept the submission as long as it came with a writeup explaining the piece.

I wanted to make a piece that reflected the narrow and sometimes arbitrary criteria used in testing and evaluation. So I made a toad – sitting in a really poorly built nest that had been graded an F. The point was that a toad isn’t supposed to build a nest. Testing it on its ability to do so, and then calling it a failure for not meeting that standard, just doesn’t make sense.

Honestly, submitting this was a big risk. I think the sculpture itself is very silly, and really not something one should turn in for a college class. I had made another presentation that was more in line with their samples, and was fully prepared to turn that one in. But my TA encouraged me to go through with the toad, and I’m really glad I did. I think the write-up – where I connected it to personal experience and research – is what pulled it together and gave it meaning.

I actually left the toad behind as a gift for my TA. He was incredibly kind and supportive – always willing to stay an extra half hour just to help me think through ideas. This was my first non-required writing class at college, and it was a huge learning curve, but he really made it a memorable one. I hope he liked the toad 🙂

A planter for a friend who loves foxes:

I didn’t know it at the time, but the clay I used for this piece was recycled “slop” clay. That means it came from the sediment collected in the buckets where people rinse their tools and hands – full of bits of glaze, metal oxides, and all the mess left behind in the making process. When fired, these little remnants cause tiny specks to appear on the clay body.

I actually ended up loving them. They give the piece so much memory – it feels like the piece carries a bit of everything that came before it.

Some necklaces and jewelry trays:

Some little dogs to hold single flowers – because campus has too many pretty flowers, and they’re way too tiny for full-sized vases.

I’m interning at Nvidia in California for the summer, and visited this vintage arcade and automata museum nearby called Museé Mecanique. It is genuinely one of the funkiest, most entertaining, and interesting places I have visited. It’s a big private collection by Pier 39 on Fisherman’s Wharf. I was so intrigued by the handmade automata – pianos that play themselves, bell ringers that strike little tin bells like clockwork, galloping horses, really creepy laughing women, and so much more. I’ve gotten so inspired to build my own automata, and I think it might be fun to try building them out of clay, instead of wood. I have drafted out some plans to make clay versions of some wood automata tutorials I found online, and I’m super excited to try them out when I’m back on campus in September.

Another huge undertaking this semester was the 10 ft x 9 ft maze I helped build for the robotics club. We co-hosted Princeton’s annual PacBot competition this year.

Look at this beauty:

For those unfamiliar, PacBot is a real-life robotics version of the classic Pac-Man arcade game: a palm-sized robot traverses an intricate maze, collecting as many pellets as it can while avoiding four simulated, ghosts. View Pacbot 2025 here.

Naturally, the competition needs a maze. Last year at Harvard, I saw how transporting the entire maze was a huge hassle. I was excited – and definitely overconfident – but I committed to building a modular version for this year. I didn’t know the first thing about woodworking or CAD for wood. But a maze was needed, so a maze would be built.

In the fall, I experimented with different ways to attach the walls to the base. I had high hopes for a magnetic system, inspired by the way cupboard latches work, but it didn’t offer the stability we needed. Eventually, I landed on a solution: 1-inch dowels glued to the walls, which slotted into holes in the base. It was simple, sturdy, and easy to assemble. Or at least, it seemed to be, when I was experimenting with just the odd piece of wood. Replicating that process for hundreds of pieces was incredibly time and labour intensive.

Over winter break, I CADed the entire maze in Onshape. I made many mistakes – like prioritizing the 7-inch corridor width but not double-checking the overall dimensions. That led to some odd measurements (hello, 2.186 inches) that we had to round on the fly.

Most of the group also got our woodshop training done over winter break, so we were able to start working on the maze collectively over spring semester. We ran three sessions for the week, each led by either me, or one of the other co-leads, with people having the option to join any one of them. Our google sheet tracking the progress of each one of the 158 pieces became our most referenced doc. The first couple of weeks were rough, but we eventually developed an efficient factory-line system. We did run into some hiccups with certifications and permissions – it was frustrating at times, but I suppose it’s all part of the process.

One major challenge we faced was warping. I consulted someone I knew from the sculpture studio, and they recommended using OSB subflooring and pressed fiberboard. We laminated those sheets together, but I think the combination of different woods and the glue caused the base to warp. We eventually fixed it by using small sheets of acrylic and scrap wood to press down the warped areas and apply weight.

Honestly, building the maze was incredibly stressful. There were weeks when it felt like all I thought about was wood. The pressure of the deadline, the mental and physical exhaustion of cutting and assembling everything, multiple Home Depot trips hauling massive sheets of wood, and then dragging them up multiple flights of stairs – it was a lot. It is part of the reason I want to get really jacked. For the wood, if not for anything else, haha.

But it was all worth it. In my very unbiased opinion, the maze came together beautifully. Our bot didn’t get stuck, everything ran smoothly, and seeing it in action made all the effort feel meaningful. There are sections of the maze propped up by sheets of newspaper, but it still turned out decent, and I’m really proud I went through the process of making it.

More than anything though, I’m just so grateful for the entire team and my co-leads who were there with me through every single part of this – and my friends who tolerated me cribbing about this literally every day for two months. People took time out of their lives (some of them were out here writing their entire final theses!!) and even cut night-outs short just to drive to Home Depot. I honestly could not have done this without them. It was such a team effort, and I feel really, really lucky to have gone through this with such solid, thoughtful people.

I worked Reunions this year. Princeton goes all out for its alumni reunions – it’s a massive, joyful, chaotic tradition. I took a job in dining because it provided both food and housing for the 10 days I had between the end of the semester and the start of my internship. I loved seeing little kids running around dressed as tigers – tiny orange-and-black costumes everywhere. I ended up working with the 50th reunion class.

It put a lot of things into perspective. I realized that some of these people were probably also once devastated over a photonics class or some other college stress 50 years ago, and back then, it probably felt like the end of the world. But they got through it. Some ended up doing incredibly well, others led quieter lives – but they were all here, having a great time. I’m generally a very anxious person, and I was especially uneasy about the summer alone in California, but reunions did help ease alot of that anxiety. I want to keep working hard, and I want to make wise decisions – I just need to learn how to worry less about them.

Reunions ended with fireworks. I’ve never seen fireworks on that scale before–or ones synchronized so perfectly to music. It was a magical night.

Other than all this, I took a road trip to Nashville and Alabama. Had great food, experienced American country music and “Honky Tonks” for the first time. Found really good momos at Edison, had a really nice birthday, got to experience formals, and got my hair cut by my friend in my dorm’s stairwell.

Next semester is somehow already junior year. So many cool classes I want to take, plans for ceramics, a tiny robot to build, hopefully research (if any of the professors I emailed ever reply??). I’m excited for it all.