THE CLAY in Clarissa's hands felt so familiar and almost home. She loved getting her hands dirty whether it was with paint or clay. Right at that moment, she enjoyed every minute of being instructed by Raquel. Although one would think the elderly woman was all about Gucci, Prada, polished nails and six inch heels, Raquel had magical hands for making sculptors and Clarissa watched in amazement as her lump of clay transformed into something beautiful.
"No, no, no, no!" Raquel exclaimed when Clarissa pressed the inside her clay to make the mouth of her vase. "You make vase like you are angry with your clay! Anger makes vase ugly. Loosen your grip, my dear. We are not here to kill anyone. We are here to make vase." she said in her off-English.
Clarissa bit her lip guilty. Actually she was an
