"The clay. So fragile and yet so strong.

I started by throwing perfectly smooth pieces. I thought a good potter had to perfect the lines. That they had to be able to produce in series so that each piece was identical. That's what I was taught.

But I didn't like what I saw. No story. No emotion. Just technique. It wasn't me. I wanted to tell a different story, something more vibrant.

So I started digging into the clay and exploring what the texture inspired in me. I saw character, strength, but also a profound fragility. I saw myself reflected in it, like a mirror image.

I know what I want to do now.

For hours on end, I textured the clay and filled all those tiny hollows with color. I think I was seeking peace in the meticulousness of the gesture.

I still remember the first time I felt the earth spin in my hands. I was afraid I'd fail. And then I stopped thinking. I let my body guide me and I enjoyed the moment.

I create to feel alive."