I used to think breakage meant failure, a piece lost forever. Now I see it as the aggregate, each shard a lesson pressed into the next form. The kiln doesn't care about intention. It only reveals what's been done. Sometimes the cracks are just the map of the stress, showing where to reinforce next time; sometimes they're the only way the light gets in. There's a reason I keep the misfired pieces. Not to torture myself, but to remember that even the ugliest lump of clay can be ground down and added back to the mix. Nothing is truly wasted; just waiting for its next iteration.