The very first bowls I made out of stoneware were like broken eggshells, tiny, jagged and fragile - looking back, they were an uncannily accurate reflection of how I felt about myself at the time. I liked to make small things I could hold in my hand - the way they felt and fitted cosily into my palm was important to me - it was kind of comforting. I made quite a lot of these little bowls and glazed them white inside because that seemed like the obvious thing to do. Then I lined them up and there they sat, a sad little row of forlorn and abandoned broken eggs. I knew we both needed something more to bring us alive, but I didn't know what that might be. A few weeks later I came across some old sheets of silver leaf in a box full of crafty bits and pieces we always dug out to make cards at Christmas and I peeled one off its fragile paper backing and stuck it down inside one of the bowls, I couldn't believe the transformation. My downhearted little broken eggshell had changed into something uplifting, tactile, dancing with light and energy and it filled my heart with joy. It was a timely reminder to me that there is always a silver lining to be found in everything, even if you put it there yourself.