Does it really matter in the end? When I was a kid, I learned to sew from my mother, then from a friend’s mother who was a professional tailor. My home economics teacher taught me how to knit, then years later I relearned how to knit in a different style. One year I took up watercolors, another I learned origami. Photography has been a thru-line for all my hobbies.

Bookbinding became a passion when I couldn’t find a quality travel sketchbook in the size I needed with the paper I wanted.

I visted tea shops, I went to museums. The Shoji show at the Japanese Garden has been a perennial favorite.

On a whim, a friend and I signed up for pottery workshop, just because I’d always wanted to try it. It felt like coming home. It looked like a flower pot.

I took another class, this time wheel throwing. It was hard. I cried. I loved it even more.

All of those handmade teapots I’ve collected over many years suddenly had new lessons to teach me. I still haven’t cracked that code, but I will.