Beams filtered in through a tall, narrow window, casting sunlight onto the cement floor of the studio. Panelled wood walls were coated in white paint, and the ceiling held swathes of sheer white cloth draped from unpainted wood beams.

She pressed her foot to the pedal and watched the wheel spin. She had already wedged the ball of clay resting in her right hand and she waited till she felt ready. With a fair bit of practice, Janna threw it onto the centre of the wheel. Dipping her sponge into the pail of water beside her, she squeezed the water over the clay, set the sponge into the base, and placed her wet hands on the sides of the clay. Tightening her abdominal muscles and her arms, she locked her upper body in place so she could hold her hands steady as the clay bucked against her palms and resisted the manipulation. But after a few moments, the rocking smoothed out and the clay began to take on a more cylindrical shape. Janna smiled and continued manipulating the clay, pushing her thumbs in at the top to create an opening.

~Janna Kingston, CNS