I touched clay for the first time less than 5 years ago. Since that glorious, destiny filled day, I have been addicted to it. What part of clay, you may ask, is so intoxicating? Well, to make order of my addiction, allow me to take this from the top.
When I first open a new bag of earthenware, I plunge my head deep within the bag to take a big deep breath of all things earthy. The scent of the clay is something akin to that beautiful sweet smell that happens just after the rain in the mountains. It is at once filled with dirt, water, grass and sky. The scent is so heady to me that I lose myself for a moment, lost in memories of all the hikes I have taken in my heaven which goes by the name of North Carolina.
As I roll out the clay…
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