Fast forward to 2022, I just gave birth to my first child and was 3 months postpartum when I was having trouble nursing. After several trips to the doctor with what I believed to be a clogged duct was in fact a large tumor and I was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. Everything I knew in this moment changed.

During treatment, I wasn’t “allowed” to go to throw and work with clay due to risk of infection. When my treatment was over I was dealing with a lot of neuropathy pain due to the chemo and subsequently was then diagnosed with early RA that seems to have been caused by the chemotherapy affecting my immune system and creating space for something that may have occurred down the road to be expedited. All this to say I was very sore and had a lot of trouble with my hands and feet and joints. During a meeting with one of my doctors, they suggested playing with Play-Doh with my young son to help get my fingers moving and I thought oh my goodness what about clay? Once cleared I step back into the studio and got behind the wheel. Although I had to retrain my fingers to move as they used to, once I started it all came back. I burst into tears as I looked down at the simple bowl I had created and my friend and owner said “wow you didn’t miss a step!” It felt like I had missed so many steps along the way over the past year, but to be back doing some thing that I loved was immeasurable. I realized I missed having this outlet this source of therapy for me and I felt whole again. 

My friends from Pottery would come to my chemo sessions with me. They brought me sketchbooks and encouraged me to write down how I was feeling or any images I had, a word that came to mind in the moments and to be present with my feelings. Over the months I sketch and jotted down different things, envisioning what I would make once I could get back and that was one thing that kept me going. It gave me something to look forward to. Delaying gratification humbles you and empowers you all the same time. 

One image that kept returning to me, was of a bee. A nurse had explained the idea of stage 4 cancer being as if as there was a nest that was built in my breast and a bee left the hive and started building a new nest in my liver. Our job was to control the hive and make sure there were no other stray bees up to no good! I thought about the rogue bees a lot over the past year. I knew I wanted to create something with this imagery. There were countless times throughout treatment that the idea of getting back into pottery felt insurmountable. Chemo was turning my nail’s black and blue and lifting off at times and neuropathy leaving several fingers with numbness and pain. Upon returning I’m elated to have been able to create this piece. We continue to contain the bees and everyday I blossom in new ways. I’m eternally grateful to all the beautiful bee keepers throughout this journey.