I find the act of creating art very therapeutic, and since drawing is out of the question due to my complete and total lack of fine motor skills, working with clay seemed like the perfect way to do so. There is something inherently relaxing about simply shutting my brain off and zoning out as I sculpt something out of a big wad of Earth. Considering how inherently hectic and stress-inducing school is, especially junior year, having one class to simply focus on one thing at a time, with no grand aspirations or long-term goals, was a nice bit of solace among what felt like complete chaos. Most of my work did follow that mentality of "Let's just do whatever and see how it turns out; what's the worst that can happen?" As such, there were often considerable differences in the original concept art and the final product; aspects were altered because they simply felt right, glazes were chosen on a whim, and of course, problems came to define the final outcome more than original idea. More often than not, the problems I faced during the construction of any given work, and the subsequent solutions, were my favorite parts of the project; the more I learned this, the more in-the-moment my pieces became. The ultimate culmination of this thought process can be seen in my final piece, the Teapot, which involved very little planning and a lot of me saying "Well, let's just go for it." Going in, I had no idea what I was going to do, and up until the final couple days, I still did not know how it would all come together. However, the moment I actually saw all these different aspects finally culminate into a single piece was one of the most satisfying, cathartic moments of the year. This perfectly embodies my reasons for working with clay; I don't have to constantly be worrying about how everything will come together in the end, or how drastically, or detrimentally, it will impact my future. It gives me an opportunity to simply be; be in the moment, be at peace, and be myself in my own, weird way.