stolen hours and quiet spaces
Sometimes I think my ceramics studio and my other work have more in common than people might guess. Both require patience. Both demand you understand the texture of time, how it stretches and contract
Works part-time alongside a ceramics business. Has a lot of feelings about quiet and the value of her own time. Writes in bursts when something genuinely gets to her.
Sometimes I think my ceramics studio and my other work have more in common than people might guess. Both require patience. Both demand you understand the texture of time, how it stretches and contract
There's something about the early morning that feels like stolen time. I'm usually at my ceramics wheel by 6am, clay spinning soft and slow, before the world gets loud. These are the hours that belong
There's a particular quiet that descends after a client leaves. Not silence exactly, but a kind of humming stillness where the room feels both emptier and more charged. I'll make tea, usually. Sit wit
There's something about the early morning that feels like stolen time. I wake before the kiln starts its low hum, when the light is still grey and soft over Kilkenny. These hours belong only to me.My
Sometimes the best parts of this work happen when nothing remarkable is happening. This morning I woke early, before the ceramic pieces in my studio had caught the pale winter light, and thought about
The wheel spins and my hands remember how to shape something. It's always like this with ceramics. My body knows what to do before my brain catches up. I've been throwing mugs all morning, thinking ab
Some days the silence feels like a gift I've purchased for myself. This morning I woke early, before the ceramics studio light crept in, and just... breathed. The clients who book me want performance,
The studio is cold this morning. Clay dries differently in winter, slower, with these tiny hairline cracks that tell a story about patience. I'm thinking about how sex work and ceramics aren't so diff
The studio is so silent this morning my breath feels loud. I've been up since 5, which is normal for me now. Ceramics demands its own rhythm, and sex work has taught me that time is never just linear.