My Story
Chlloolly began in the quiet hours of the night.
For many years I worked as a journalist, living in a world of words, urgency, and stories that never seemed to pause. Then cancer entered my life, and suddenly everything slowed down. Time stretched. Nights became long. One of those nights changed everything.
Pain had made sleep impossible. While searching for distraction, I came across a video of a potter shaping clay. There was something almost meditative about it; the slow turning of the wheel, the steady hands guiding soft earth into form. I watched one video, then another. The night passed without my noticing.
In the morning, I bought a small piece of clay.
For days it rested quietly in my home. Each morning I would wake with pain, see the clay, and feel a quiet curiosity about what it might become. Then one sleepless night, sitting in my bed with that piece of earth in my hands, I shaped the first cup of my life.
From that moment, something had begun. Little by little, a corner of my home transformed into a small studio. While chemotherapy slowly took my hair, I was learning how to center clay on the wheel. When my body was too weak to stand, I filled pages of a notebook with sketches and forms. And when I finally came through an eleven-hour surgery, I gave myself a kiln as a promise; a quiet promise to continue.
The path was not easy.
But somewhere between the sleepless nights, the spinning wheel, and the patience of clay, I became a potter.
Chlloolly grew from that journey, from resilience, from learning slowly, and from the belief that even the simplest objects can carry meaning.
Each piece is shaped by hand in a small studio, embracing the beauty of imperfection and the quiet rituals of everyday life, a morning cup held in warm hands, a shared table, a simple form resting quietly in space.
Chlloolly is a celebration of those small moments and of the quiet strength that shapes them.
Happy to have you here!