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!