Back to the Earth

Growing up my parents' kitchen was filled with pieces of ceramic tableware of various provenances. There were heavy earth colored pitchers and platters from pre-children adventures in southern Mexico, colorful bowls and canisters that were gifts from artist friends and a massive set of hefty earthenware bowls which I believe most recently served as a vessel for my aunt's fabulous yeasted waffles and I can only imagine belonged to a grandmother or great grandmother somewhere along the way.

And then there is the collection of bowls and mugs and platters that my mother has found over the years trawling the pottery studios of Berkeley and Emeryville, my favorite of which is a tall, almost conical off-white bowl which my mom used to use for making bread dough, as well as coleslaw, her version of which was one of my favorite things to eat in the summers growing up.

So I suppose I've come by my love of ceramic tableware honestly. Formed from natural materials by human hands, it feels so basic and honest. And yet, well done, it is lovely and graceful.

I always have an eye out for pottery, and as such honed in on Heath Ceramics years ago. Based in Sausalito, for quite some time I admired the locally made, handmade pieces from afar. I've always had a soft spot for their perfect bud vases

and their simple, earthy and elegant dishes.

And don't even get me started on their tiles

I suppose access to such gorgeous products might explain why the owners have a most envy-worthy home.

Anyway, on a trip back to the homeland a while back, I insisted on visiting the factory store. I was on the hunt for a wedding gift for a dear friend who I thought would appreciate the perfection that is Heath. The store is quite literally next to the factory (locally made, handmade claims confirmed!), and in addition to first quality items, they also have second and third quality pieces. I often found it hard to tell the difference between the various tiers of items, but the difference in price was quite clear. I picked up this beautiful dish

for about 25% of retail. I'm still excited about the find two years later.

Recently loads of wonderful small ceramics lines have been featured in various media outlets...blogs, magazines and newspapers all seem to be jumping on the bandwagon.

Gleena Ceramics has been popping up all over the place, and for good reason. I love the idea of sipping a delicate tea in the evening out of these cups,

warming my hands after coming in from the cold.

And these votives look as though they could turn even the most depressing space into a sort of fairyland.

Rae Dunn, who sells through an etsy store, puts a whimsical spin on the most basic of pieces.

I could certainly see these dishes by my stove or on my dining room table (if I had one that is).

And this plate would be ideal to eat a breakfast pastry off of first thing on a Sunday morning.

Arendal Keramik puts a bit of an edgy spin on the more traditional, perhaps twee if traditional is not your cup of tea, china patterns.

Drinking dark rich coffee out of these cups on a cold morning would be one of those great little luxuries in life.

Perfection.

Collectibles

I'm not much of a collector. Until recently I rarely took photos. I am more prone to purging than to hoarding, and I can count the number of sentimental items or trinkets I own on one hand: the very wise and lyrical (handwritten) letter that my dad gave me as I got on the plane to go to college for the first time, a small perfume bottle that my sister brought back for me from Cuba nearly fifteen years ago, an odd little ivory box adorned with several frogs that a friend of mine in elementary school gave me and one iconic (in my family at least) image of each of my parents.

They say that opposites attract, and in this realm that is most certainly the case with me and Paul. He is one of the more sentimental people that I've ever met, and as a result each and every item that he comes across is at some point considered very special. I used to find it charmingly amusing until I was cleaning out a large dresser a while back and came across piles and piles of letters and programs and photos gathered during his ten years living in London. It was wonderful to look through, and allowed me to get acquainted with the person he was before we met. And as he sorted through the stacks and stacks of paper, he was able to reminisce about some very good old days that might not have been quite so memorable were the visual aids not available. So I began to see his habit of collecting as the action of a wise, emotionally evolved person rather than as a quaint eccentricity.

Having seen the joy that going through his collection of tidbits brought us both, I began to see that collections of that sort really ought to be displayed such that consistent consumption is possible. So, as a birthday gift, I set out to put one of his larger collections, that of concert tickets, into a visually appealing form.

And I came up with this:

Four cheap frames,

filled to bursting with every ticket from every concert he's attended since he moved to the United States eight years ago.

They are currently displayed on our hall wall. Not only do I find them visually appealing, but I adore watching him walk past, pause, stare at a section for a moment and smile quietly in recognition and recollection of a particularly great gig.