Tenderness and creativity at the forefront

The hands rest softly on the clay, between the palms and the fingers they squeeze it, caress it, they mold that feeling that only transpires when the docile material, humid, soaks the dream of the princes who squeeze it.

Yes, this was their first time, their beginnings, in that environment of clay, water, lathes, sticks; it was their first time, muddy to delight, discovering the magical tenderness of clay.

At that moment the past does not exist, only today, the now, that instant, the very moment in which fantasy takes shape in the piece of clay, tender, warm, divine.

And so creativity begins to grow, inspired by tenderness and presented in the foreground.