She doesn’t use a wheel.
She doesn’t need one.

In Sejnane, pottery is shaped by hand, the way it’s always been; with earth, fire, and time.

Chmissa learned from her mother, who learned from hers.
The knowledge travels through the hands, not through school.

Her pieces carry the lines of Berber tattoos, the rhythm of woven cloth, and the shape of the land.
The forms are simple. The method is honest. The care is hers.

Here, pottery holds food, stores water, and keeps culture alive.
Chmissa works so that doesn’t change.