Ongoingness Meets
Erica Soria
Founder of Ayni Pottery, Elemental Alchemist & Potter
Ongoingness Meets
Initially I resisted my curiosity around pottery simply because everyone seemed to be doing it. What I found out however, is that everyone’s doing it because it’s a lot of fun. Earlier this year I went to a 5-Week pottery course with Erica. After each lesson I’d leave the studio pinging, a sore face from smiling, and eager to return the following week.
Erica has such an energy to her—gracious, spacious, wise, nurturing, generous, joyous, she’s hilarious too—an absolute hoot of the sharpest variety. She caught my attention and interest real’ fast when early into our first lesson she was talking passionately about the language of the hands, memory of clay, and the magic process of the elemental alchemical. Additionally, she helped me realise my long-held chip and dip (actually, dip and chip) bowl—lucky me!
She regularly hosts courses and workshops. If you’re pottery-curious or elbows deep in clay, I think you’d love to join in her element (pun intended). Her energy will fill your cup and your heart, as you’ll start to see as you read her interview.
I’ve been drawn to clay since I was too young to remember, returning to it over and over, as if clay were calling me back. Someone once told me that when you hear the earth's call, there is no way to hide. My curious mind had found its favourite medium. The ceramic world is a fountain of endless knowledge—a place where we can keep learning and discovering. And the deeper we go, the more we realise just how much there is still to learn.
In Quechua, the language of the Andes, Ayni means reciprocity in its purest form. It’s about practicing generosity and trusting that the universe will give back in its own time. You give, and eventually, it returns—perhaps in a different form, perhaps from someone else, and it doesn’t matter how.
This beautiful energy exchange, much like trees absorbing our CO₂ and releasing oxygen for us to breathe, is the principle that guides the energy exchange within our community. Ayni was born as a space where people can calm their minds and reconnect with themselves, allowing this reciprocity to translate into their lives and surroundings.
On a personal note, people ground me just as much as the clay itself, so I am grateful for their presence.
Every day, clay teaches me to set an intention, then let go and trust the process. Keep learning, keep moving, and come back to centre. We are one with the earth.
Lately, I've realised that the more I focus on achieving something, the more I return to the process itself. The goal is to remove myself from the outcome, letting go and staying present. By doing this, I hope to find balance and a deeper appreciation for the journey. I must confess, though, that it’s very challenging!
While I hold the space and share what has worked for me, the clay becomes their teacher, revealing lessons unique to each of them. Ultimately, the real teacher resides within, guiding their journey.
This art is functional, and students witness their pieces grow from a simple shape into something purposeful. Together, we create vessels that will hold nourishing food for the same bodies that crafted them—a beautiful reciprocity.
Light, it is. I see light in people, thanks to their shadows. Without them, there would be no way to truly shine. I often remind myself that where there is darkness, there’s also light; one cannot exist without the other. This duality helps the mind feel in control, yet I am grateful for the reminder that, beyond these distinctions, we are complete and whole.
One day, I was so angry that nothing could calm me—not breathing, singing, wedging clay, or walking. After hours, I recognised how deep my frustration was. I told myself, “It’s not about you.” So I bought chocolate for my class. When they arrived and shared it, I felt fulfilled, as if I’d transformed that burning anger into something sweet and gentle. It wasn’t easy to let go of the need to control, but this experience showed me how we can turn inner fire into kindness.
When I feel lost, I turn to clay and let my hands play. There is so much wisdom within us, but we are often too busy looking outside to notice.
May we all shine our light and celebrate our wounds, embracing them not despite but because of who they make us.
