Studio Elliott

I stepped out of the dining hall and when the air hit my skin I realized it was like ice. I should have worn my jacket. Running through the thin cold air, I felt as though I couldn't breath. My lungs were burning. I finally got inside of Harder and upon entering the ceramics studio I could taste all the clay dust. The air wreaked of sweeping compound and I could no longer see the grey cement floor, just the mounds of red sawdust. As I worked I struggled to see the progress of my project.