As I packed up my kitchen, I found myself rightfully reconsidering why I need 32 different coffee cups.
The time is right to cull down to having artisinal ceramics in my kitchen. I often use such special considerations when choosing my food, so it only makes sense to have my kitchen ware be made with such consideration and intent as well.
My history gives me the perspective to choose my kitchen ceramics such that I know who made what I use. If its machine made, I’ll only consider it under special circumstances.
It’s a scene reminiscent of Fight Club, instead there is no Robert Paulson here.
The making of ceramics for use with food is intimidating in its intimacy. You and I share where we place our hands, our fingers trace the same lines. You place your lips where my hands have fashioned their resting place.
This level of intensity – the proximity of interaction, exposes my maker’s habits to you. It’s what has caused me to shy away from creating functional pottery in the past, this closeness.
And yet, here I stand in my kitchen being pulled into it all again.