‘Making’ sounds so much less serious than ‘creating’ and because I could be ‘making’ a cake or ‘making’ a bed, it isn’t loaded with expectation about making something wonderful and perfect and all of us makers can live without that pressure! The clay feels cold and inanimate when you first pull it out of the bag but it soon warms up and comes alive in my hands; every clay is different and you become familiar with the feel of each one. The black porcelain is always wet and sticky but if you run your finger through it, it smooths out like silk. The white porcelain feels slightly dryer and harder to the touch but it ‘gives’ when you work it as if it’s capitulating in some way. I always start with a ball of clay in the palm of my hand and I never make anything bigger than I can comfortably create there because keeping an unbroken connection with the clay is very important to me. Sometimes, when people pick up my finished work they will place it in their own palm for a moment and this always thrills me; it’s where it started out and when they do that I feel that their hand slips into mine as the maker, just for a moment, and to me, that’s what ‘hand-made’ is all about.