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I love the feeling of the clay under my fingers and the willingness of it to adhere to the pressure of your hand.

Clay demands to be respected and you have to adhere to certain rules otherwise the purifying process of the kiln will have its last say. The ritual of the making process, respecting the feel and sensuality of the clay, is soothing my mind.

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It smell opening a bag of clay takes me back to my childhood smelling the earth when building mud castles after the rain.

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The kiln demanding adherence to the rules can be frustrating by also brings some unexpected blessings at times.

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Buying a kiln when I retired was an almost no brainer...

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