A morning ritual
Coffee, tea, juice, water…? We all have a favourite morning beverage. Mine’s coffee, hands down. It is my guiltless pleasure.
Made by hand
This morning I drank my coffee out of a mug I made at art school in Nelson, British Columbia. Fond memories of an important chapter of my life swirl through my head.
A unique shape
It has grooves swirling up the wall of the cup, created with my own fingertips on the potter’s wheel. Perfect resting places for my fingers to cradle the warm vessel.
A delicate handle is curved like a question mark.
A perfect fit
The rim is not round, but undulating, like petals of a flower. There’s a perfect spot to rest my lips and take the first sip. Mmmmmm, delightful.
Transformed by fire
The mirror finish on the outside comes from a shino glaze. This very coffee cup sat in a box of gas fueled fire for 10 hours until the glaze melted to liquid.
The air supply is reduced and the flames are starved. They must resort to desperate measures. They need air to survive.
The mug makes an offering to the fire, trading oxygen for aesthetic brilliance. Transformations take place. At 2232°F the fire is extinguished.
Over the next 2 days the glaze cools and solidifies into a thin layer of glass.
The kiln door is unstacked, brick by brick. Anticipation turns to excitement. The finished product is revealed.
Clink, clink, clink. I stir my second cup. A smile comes to my face. What a great story!
Where did your coffee cup come from?
Take a moment over your next morning beverage to contemplate the story of your cup. Please share your experience in the comments.