Since resuming contact with the clay this last September, I've been sneaking up the learning curve in stops and starts. Less curve, more steps. Definitely pixelated. I've had two major batches come out of the glaze kiln (and a few other stragglers here and there). Mugs and bowls mainly, but a few handbuilt plates here and there. The first batch had no time to accumulate wear, or even dust before it was photographed, packed and scattered across the country in gift wrap for the holidays. So, while functional in name and form, I had no opportunity to test drive any of it.
My recent batch, post-holiday, afforded me the opportunity to sell some pieces if I so choose, or to keep some around to use. And through use, I can learn whether they count as "functional." It's one thing to be a cup-with-handle, but another thing entirely to be a cup-with-handle that feels comfortable when grasped or held. Also, I enjoy my coffee/tea far more when it doesn't involve burning the top layer of skin off my lips. In other words, rim thickness should be a crucial consideration in the making.
I still gave some as gifts; my personal person, for example, was in dire need of coffee cups, and so he got a set of three.
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I spend extended periods chez lui, so I get to use them too. The cups scored high on aesthetics. We both dug the iridescent glaze effects, and I noted how easy they are to grasp by their handles, which means I finally zoned in on correct proportion. The rims could be thicker. I have to wait a few before sipping unless I want to my tea to taste like burning. There are other considerations as well. I dipped all three cups in the same two glazes and fired them to Cone 6 oxidation. While roughly the same size, they vary in form and surface, and I layered the two glazes differently on each cup. The iridescent flow results from the overlap reaction and consequent flow. I used Indian Summer, a warm pale yellow opaque matte glaze and Oatmeal Satin, a semi-translucent off-white satin (not quite glossy but shinier than matte). Because I wanted the surface to be food-safe, I applied the Oatmeal Satin over the Indian Summer where applicable. Unfortunately, where layering occurred on the rims, the glaze ran so the matte glaze was exposed. Now there's no poison here, but matte glazes are porous. This means they're harder to clean and keep clean. Luckily, Himself cleans meticulously and claims the look is worth the extra cleaning effort. It's nice to make it from week to week without a poisoning on my hands so this story ends well.
As per freaking assignment, I came down with the flu just after bringing home the second batch. For me the flu means lots of hot tea and night-time TheraFlu. It also means that I grab the first clean cup available and keep washing it. This happened to be one of the new ones, but one I couldn't sell or give away because of the glaze weirdness. I call this a mistake of second-guessing, which caused me to wipe off a swath of glaze I thought too thick. When the cup came out of the fire, I found the matte sheen of oxide-stained bare clay body gaping through the substantial wound where the glaze had been wiped. Since the rims remained intact, however, the cup was safe for drinking. And in drinking hot liquids from this cup every day for a week, I fell in love with it. The cup opening is a squarish oval, or a rounded diamond if you prefer; because of the altering of the traditionally circular opening, the rim curves in a way that invites drinking. No drips! And the handle? Wide enough to hold comfortably, enough room to grip it firmly, and with optimal leverage. I have a New-Friend crush. Seriously. So, recap: the flu still sucks but now I have a new favorite cup.
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