The sack represents everything I bundled up and stuffed in a bag and stuck in the corner. It is my playfulness, carefree enjoyment, my worth. It encompasses genuine connections, not just people pleasing, but my calm, my voice.

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For years, I have been holding these back. Not knowing how to engage with them in this world or whether I should. Working with the clay, the messiness felt 'naughty', as if I shouldn't be indulging in such things. I struggled through, almost stopping several times to do something else that might be considered more productive.

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Then something switched. Perhaps it's how I enjoyed the slimy wetness of the clay slipping through my fingers. But with that, a shape emerged. The sack. It didn't feel right to have it closed tight. Now, as if it had sprung a leak, everything I held onto is beginning to flow and, with it, sprouting growth. I think I will keep it open.