maybe the point of teaching isn't to impart skill but to midwife something into being, something that was always there waiting to be born and you just hold space, you hold the clay, you turn the wheel, you let the kiln do its thing, and the heat rises and the colors change and sometimes it's a disaster, sometimes it cracks and shatters and you sweep it up and start again, and sometimes, sometimes it's breathtaking and you don't know why, you just know it's true, and it's not about you, it was never about you, it's about the thing that wanted to exist and finally found its way into the world, i almost didn't say any of that out loud, i almost kept it locked up, like it was a secret shame, all this wanting to create and help others create, like it wasn't a real job, like it wasn't a real thing, but the clay doesn't lie, the clay knows, yuki always said, the clay knows what you're trying to hide, and if you don't listen, it will break you.