Just opened a kiln with fresh pots and new glazes. Really excited about the results, and all of the fresh possibilities they represent.  Here's a few mugshots.

This bowl and mug are my daily studio companions. Most of my studio lunches are eaten out of this simple green bowl, and this little white mug is generally full of coffee, tea, or apple cider at this time of year. These pots were chosen, in part, because they weren't. They became my pots because they were "leftovers," passed over after a series of sales; less elegant, less eye-popping than their brothers and sisters.  They are not spectacular.
Which is, of course, why they are so great.
These pots embody mostly what I have come to love about making pots, what I want pots to do, and why, alas, I have such a hard time selling them. Their beauty is not immediately apparent, but reveals itself over time and use. The weight of the bowl is just right. Both the mug and bowl fit my hand perfectly. The texture and feel of the raw clay at the bottom of the mug, and the way it contrasts to the glossy smoothness of the glaze is addictive to touch. The subtle richness of the glazes of both pots and how they are enhanced by the richness of the clay reveals itself over time. There are moments when I find myself contemplating the rich lavender hue in the lip of the mug or the beautiful iron speck of the bowl in the milky-green celedon glaze surface that remind me of they way I might gaze at the night sky or look into a fire.  And because the pots are not flashy, they compliment, rather than compete with, what you put in them. 
Flashy pots get all the attention, but sturdy, well-crafted humble pots get the most use. If you collect pots (or want to start) I hope you'll keep a spot on your shelves for some humble pots. I bet you will come to find them the most treasured pieces in your collection. 

So, it turns out that if you head up to the 5th floor of the Billy Graham Center right just before sunrise at the time of the Autumnal Equinox you can see a shaft of light that slowly moves across the wall and highlight Corpus. How crazy cool is that? Many many thanks to my colleague John Walton for pointing this out to me (he is an early riser, and he says it only happens for about three days and only at this one time of year), and to Greg Schreck for rising early to document this event with some amazing photos. These pictures were taken September 22nd right at the height of the event.

​Honestly, I couldn't have planned this if I tried. Here's a black and white version of the same photo.

This one was taken the day before with a camera phone by Andy Tooley.