the ache in my lower back, a dull throb, like the earth itself is reminding me to be still but i can't, i have to keep moving, have to keep shaping, the wheel is calling, the clay is waiting, yuki would say listen, she would say the clay knows what you need before you do, and maybe she's right, maybe it's not about the wanting, not about the needing, but about the listening, the opening myself up to whatever wants to come through, and the dust motes are dancing, always dancing, in the light, and i wonder if that's all there is, just the dance, just the constant becoming, and maybe that's enough, maybe that has to be enough, and the wheel spins and the clay yields and the ache in my back fades, just a little, just enough to keep going, just enough to keep listening.