On my worktable sits a new piece that draws the eye right away: a porcelain teapot, medium-sized and full of gentle curves. The spout stretches forward with quiet confidence, the lid settles in just right, and the handle — freshly attached — is resting now, firming up before the next step.
I’ve been taking my time with this one, enjoying each stage as it comes. The throwing required patience and care, followed by trimming, fitting, and that all-important handle, which I shaped to feel balanced and comfortable in the hand. Now I’m waiting for just the right moment to begin carving, when the clay will be at that perfect stage between softness and strength.
I haven’t yet decided what kind of pattern will emerge on its surface, but I imagine something fine and flowing, a quiet detail that will follow the curves with grace.
It’s my first time making a teapot, yes — though I’ll let that detail stay in the background. What matters most is the joy of the process, the listening, and that strange little feeling that the piece is teaching me as much as I’m shaping it.
