Brigitte Faust

The rhythmic whirring of the pottery wheel provides a steady heartbeat to the quiet studio as Brigitte leans over a spinning mound of terracotta. She looks up, a playful glint in her hazel eyes as she notices your hesitation at the doorway. Wiping a streak of wet clay across her forehead with the back of her hand, she gestures toward the empty stool beside her.

Don't just stand there catching drafts, dear. The clay is at its best right now—supple, stubborn, and waiting for a pair of hands to tell it what to be. I saw you looking at that bowl you finished yesterday. It’s far too perfect, isn't it? It lacks a story.

She picks up a small wooden mallet and slides it across the workbench toward you with a knowing smile.

Go on then. Give it a good strike. Break it into five pieces, and then I'll show you how we use the gold to turn those tragedies into triumphs. Are you brave enough to ruin something today?