After several dreary days, the sun graciously poked out for about five minutes today, and I thankfully lapped it up. Now at this hour it's back to a dreary cloudy day. So I figured I needed a tea break and this teabag happens to say it all for me. Every choice I make in each piece of clay I shape at the wheel has a trace of myself in it.
I like Terry Gess' thoughts over making pots: "Over the years of steadily making, marking and firing pots, something distinctively myself has slipped into the process. It's a sensibility as intangible and basic to me as the way in which I hold the salt shaker when I tilt it to pour, how I turn the pages of a book or how I kick my potter's wheel."