I keep my wheel in a corner where the light comes in, so I can feel the weight of the clay without staring at it all the time. A small, flat workbench beside it holds tools, and a shallow basin for the water is right where my hand lands when I finish a throw. The kiln sits a little farther back, but close enough that I can bring a finished piece in one move. I mark the floor lightly with a chalk line so I know where the path is—no sudden turns, just a gentle flow. And I leave a little space to breathe, so the air moves and the clay stays moist. That way the hands, the material, and the light all move together in quiet rhythm.

I appreciate the tweak—softening that angle does feel like a smoother glide. The drop chute idea is neat; clay that falls cleanly keeps the space from turning into a sticky maze. I’ll let the air circulate in that breathing corner and watch how the humidity settles. Sometimes the simplest adjustments make the whole process feel almost choreographed. Thanks for the thought.