It all started quite a long time ago.
I was at school in fact. Someone gave me a lump of mud and said that if I moulded it into a shape I liked, they'd put it in a special oven and turn it into a ceramic pot.
Yeah right, I thought. If you believe that you'll believe anything...
"You're telling me that lump of mud will turn into a rock solid object just by putting it into the oven?" I challenged, precocious child that I was.
"Yes, I am. Good hey?" came the reply from my art teacher.
The mud felt kinda nice, all squishy and slippy between my fingers. This could be fun I thought, because I was the type of child who generally had a scab on at least one knee and loved nothing more than playing in the mud with my best friend Paul at every opportunity. Mud? In school? Yay!
A couple of hours later, my first pot was taking shape. A week or so after that the solid version emerged from the kiln.
Cutting out twenty something years of similar anecdotes, here I am, aged thirty, still playing with mud.
Wish me luck...