Each bud vase is thrown on the wheel by hand, and while the clay is still soft, I work my way around the rim, pressing it in and out with my fingers one wave at a time. No two ever ripple quite the same way.
The ruffles aren’t just for looks. Every little dip in the rim gives a stem somewhere to rest, so even a single flower stays standing instead of flopping to one side. And once it’s in, the ruffle sits around the base of the bloom like a soft, flowy skirt.
This one is called Patina, after the way old copper turns green over time. It’s made from a speckled white stoneware, layered with three different glazes. A warm rust runs down the body in long drips, a soft sky blue fills the spaces in between, and a speckled sage green spills over the ruffle and shoulder, with caramel streaks where the layers meet and melt into each other. Look closely at the drips and you’ll find tiny pools of bright blue where the glaze gathered at the tips.
Turn it over and you’ll see the little marks of how it was made. Near the bottom are faint fingerprints, right where I held it while dipping it in glaze. Inside, the same caramel tan is poured in and out, so it holds water for fresh flowers and soft blue peeks out from between every wave of the ruffle.
At around 4.5 inches tall, it’s the perfect size for a single stem, a few sprigs of whatever is blooming, or nothing at all on a windowsill where it can just be pretty. Made to hold a small moment.
Each bud vase is thrown on the wheel by hand, and while the clay is still soft, I work my way around the rim, pressing it in and out with my fingers one wave at a time. No two ever ripple quite the same way.
The ruffles aren’t just for looks. Every little dip in the rim gives a stem somewhere to rest, so even a single flower stays standing instead of flopping to one side. And once it’s in, the ruffle sits around the base of the bloom like a soft, flowy skirt.
This one is called Patina, after the way old copper turns green over time. It’s made from a speckled white stoneware, layered with three different glazes. A warm rust runs down the body in long drips, a soft sky blue fills the spaces in between, and a speckled sage green spills over the ruffle and shoulder, with caramel streaks where the layers meet and melt into each other. Look closely at the drips and you’ll find tiny pools of bright blue where the glaze gathered at the tips.
Turn it over and you’ll see the little marks of how it was made. Near the bottom are faint fingerprints, right where I held it while dipping it in glaze. Inside, the same caramel tan is poured in and out, so it holds water for fresh flowers and soft blue peeks out from between every wave of the ruffle.
At around 4.5 inches tall, it’s the perfect size for a single stem, a few sprigs of whatever is blooming, or nothing at all on a windowsill where it can just be pretty. Made to hold a small moment.
