The owl on the left is something I made in clay class (I never really got going on the wheel, ending up with half-inch thick, short bowls out of both the frustrataing experience of trying to build them higher and thinner, and the relative boredom with symmetry) quite some years back.
The image on the right (crazed duck?) is something my beloved husband made in a clay class when he was about twelve. Oddly enough, he had won state recognition for one of his drawings back in high school. I went on to model a nude figure out of clay which I was then afraid to fire because of the danger of explosion in a solid piece. It has since disintegrated, though it lasted a few decades.
I mused about what our art said about our personalities. My husband told me mine looked scarier. Hmmph.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology