This covered jar/bowl is seven inches tall at the shoulders, standing on an eight-inch broad frozen sea.
Detail of its precarious footing.
Photos by me.
This is a detail of the woven clay pattern. I think when I first made a woven pot, I had not seen this trick before. In fact, several experienced potters, teachers, have had to ask how I did it. I will show, but I will not tell.
The deep blue jar has a nicely fitting lid.
Miss Pixie’s is a well-established house of treasures on 14th St. NW in Washington, DC. It’s impossible for me to walk through without seeing wonderful objects and furniture that bring memories or just please the eye or hand. Even lovelier are the everyday ordinary things in multitudes, giving the satisfaction of plenty.
This is a beautiful textured pitcher by the well-known potter Sandi Pierantozzi. I had to have it.
A year has passed since we were in the wonderful artsy, historic, spiritual center of Oaxaca in southern Mexico, on the verge of the explosion of living and dead humanity that is Dia de los Muertos. These sorry little pots are the result of 1) a worthless kickwheel, 2) bad untested glazes applied by brush 3) poor firing in an unknown kiln.
But I love them.
This unplugged process produced four tiny cups and 15 buckets of sweat. Electricity is a wonderful thing.