Slab built, red mason stained clay, stoneware, cone 6, glaze.
Monologue:I sit quietly on the kitchen shelf, my red ceramic scales gleaming in the morning light. I watch her hands, always moving, pour warmth into me, a vessel for her endless care. Coffee fills my belly as she steals a moment’s peace before the day’s chorus begins. I’ve seen tears fall into my glaze, laughter echo across the room, tiny hands tug at her sleeves. Though I am fragile, she is not. In her touch, I feel strength shaped by devotion and endurance.
