I didn’t have a beautiful moment. The wasn’t one perfect throw, light streaming though the windows onto the muscly back of my ghost-lover, tenderly kissing my neck. Instead: I learned to throw while in undergrad at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago; after a ten-year hiatus, my husband, using reverse psychology, got me to take a pottery class. I was in love, again. Somewhere along the way, I was some slip-casting agateware- my gateway to nerikomi / neriage. After 5 years of working on agateware I feel like I can finally put my own spin on it. And here we are.