Ceramics are one of the oldest human arts. And yet a good bowl still has the power to stop you.
There is a bowl on my kitchen shelf that I have owned for eleven years. I bought it from a potter at a small market — she had thrown it that morning. It cost more than I expected to spend on a bowl.
I eat from it almost every day.
Over eleven years, it has chipped twice, been repaired once (with gold lacquer, in the Japanese kintsugi tradition), and accompanied me through three apartments and two countries. The chip is now my favourite part.
"A good bowl is one you reach for before thinking about it."
This is what the best objects do. They become invisible through use — not because they have no presence, but because their presence is so right that you stop noticing it. They become part of the texture of your days.
When we feature ceramics, we look for pieces made by potters who understand this. Who know that the goal is not an impressive object, but a useful one. An honest one.
Written by Nalvyo editorial for Nalvyo.