If you're sitting comfortably on the couch with your handmade mug full of steaming tea, think about it: how did this cup actually come about? This ordinary thing that goes into the dishwasher every day and can be filled clean again with your favorite drink. What road has it traveled before it fits so snugly in your hands.
It's been a long road, a very long one if you start at the very beginning. With rocks that are worn down by glaciers, and with stones that are cut and worn by rivers, by abrasive sand and water, which turns into slip and clay. And then buried under a thick layer of soil. Man digs it up, cleans it and packs it into rolls. Ready for the potter to get started.
Then it starts; walking clay, centering clay, turning clay, clay too thin, clay too thick, no bottom, a wok, air bubbles.
Then dry, not too fast, not too slow.
When turning, you shoot out of the corner. Accidentally twisted through the bottom. Well, a handle, but not.
Then dry, not too slow, not too fast.
Is it dry enough? Are there cracks? Is it warped? Are the seams loose? Wait a little longer, but not yet.
Finally time for the oven. Is it baked well? Are there cracks? Is it convex? Is it hollow? Did something explode? Is something beautiful broken right in half?
Everthing okay? Just glaze.