I love this idea of wearing a bowl. Monks carry one with them to collect alms or food. I expect they look at it a lot, wishing it full, or resigning themselves to the moment that it isn’t. The surface of the bowl is complex – textures in the porcelain, layers of slip, glazes – some have bubbled, others have slipped into each other, and become a completely unexpected colour. The joy and resignation of ceramics. Working with clay there is an element of fatality. Allow what is. Rejoice when magic happens, reflect when disappointments occur.
Photo: Robin Shelton