Grain

Every piece of clay has its own grain. Its own directions in which its subsections twist and contort. Clay is built of microscopic tile structures 200 times smaller than the width of a human hair. The texture of clay is felt in the way these flat clay-tiles are stacked. Ceramicists harbour the godly power to change the directions these particles align themselves to. 

Unlike stonemasons whose practice involves finding a grain of raw material and working around it, a wheel thrower can alter the raw material itself. The power of the pottery-wheel comes from its ability to steer the grain of any given clay body. 

I like to imagine when I first remove a piece of unwedged clay from a bag, how the mess of particles first align themselves. Configurations of particles initially point to every position in the universe,utter chaos distilled into a lump. We feel that turmoil as a kick but slowly through practice and process we pull this clay into a smooth form, spiralling its grain in on itself. From a tangled webb of flat crystals to a smooth structure lined up like a brick wall we find the forms we wish to create. From chaos to peace, a lump of clay aligns into a thrown pot.

Maybe that's why I return to the humm of the wheel for peace. For through the process of transforming disorder into order maybe too I transform my own thoughts. Between hands draped in slip and pots slowly drying in these moments I find myself truly centred.