This is one of my favorite pieces. I’ve never used it. Porcelain and wood ash fired in January 2016. I hold emotional attachments to my work, perhaps that’s not a surprise. Since firing this piece I have been unwilling to part with it and equally unwilling to use it. I relish the day I reluctantly indulge that intimate moment and place lips to porcelain and embrace the fact this vulnerable vessel will never be quite the same. A chip. A crack. A clattering clash will be this moment’s inevitable demise. But it remains safe, secure. Unseen stashed away in a dilapidated box obscured by some other dilapidated box. Waiting, indifferently.