An Honest Gathering Around Clay

Last night, I hosted a clay workshop.
But like most things I love,
it turned into something more.

People arrived quietly — each from a different path, each carrying their own story.
A beautiful mix of cultures and energies sat together around the table.
No introductions needed.
Just clay, breath, and presence.

We worked with White Raku — a clay that holds grit and softness in balance.
It welcomed every fingerprint.
Every pause.
Every quiet thought we didn’t say out loud.

We spoke of memory, and how clay remembers.
We shaped vessels that didn’t need to be perfect — just real.
Some used tools.
Some only their hands.
Everyone found their own rhythm.

What stayed with me wasn’t just what we made —
it was the way we moved around each other.
The conversations.
The silences.
The feeling that we were all, in some quiet way, creating something beyond form.

Thank you to each of you who came.
You brought your own kind of stillness.
And together, we made something warm, wild, and wordless.

Until next time,
Naz