The potter and the wheel

The potter sits upon the stool facing the table. In the centre, on the turntable sits a sterile mound of clay before her, shapeless, formless, lifeless. A deathly silence pervades the room. Barefooted, virgin while sleeves layered back upon themselves, she begins her craft. Heel, toe rest lightly upon the metal wheel, finding her grip, […]

Read More The potter and the wheel