Erratic Pulse

Your fingers press deep into the center of the wobbling clay, fighting a sudden shudder that vibrates through the spinning wheel. As you kneel near the basin, the slick, grey mass resists your touch with an unpredictable heaviness that mimics a quickening pulse. The boundary between skin and sediment dissolves in a rhythmic slap of water and grit. In this frantic collision of motion, the distinction between the maker and the material finally settles into a single, quiet weight.