I saw a lot of ceramics — from various countries and time periods — in the museums during our trip.  I miss making pots.  There is a magical sensation in the clay rising with the rhythms of wheel and hands. Every once in a while I take a class so that I can cooperatively move my hands that way again.

These asymmetrical bowls speak of wheel and of not-wheel, of roundness and not-roundness, of continuity and and dis-continuity.  Their delicate green glaze seems to enunciate those apparent contradictions with subtlety and grace.  I thought they were special.  So did a curator, fortunately!