Slab
Thrown, coiled, pinched, or cast—ceramic forms shaped by touch or mold, teetering between purpose and presence.
He Said They Can't Be Alone
He Said They Can't Be Alone
by Akiko Amora
I saw the mug from across the room and knew immediately I was going to buy it and probably injure myself on the rim. This is how most of my better decisions have started.
It was at Greyfield Market, which I was only at because Soo had a table and I'd promised to walk by and look serious while she sold things. The mug was on a different table entirely, which is typical. You go somewhere for one reason and the actual reason is across the room not asking for your attention.
THEY KEEP COMING BACK ALMOST RIGHT
THEY KEEP COMING BACK ALMOST RIGHT
By Akiko Amora
I didn't set out to collect them. The first one appeared at a market — the teal one, with the wide flat wings and the open mouth and the legs that are slightly too confident for the body they're carrying. Someone had thrown it, glazed it that particular blue-green that sits between sea and sky, given it eyes that were not an afterthought. I picked it up and put it down and picked it up again. I bought it.
This Is Not Just a Mug
THIS IS NOT JUST A MUG
by Ginly Weydh
There’s a mug on my desk, handmade. It has a thumb-sized dent in its side where the potter clearly meant for your fingers to rest. The glaze didn’t quite settle evenly — it pools dark in one corner and blushes faintly blue near the rim. There’s a tiny bump where the kiln must have spat a bit of grit. I love it.