Three Legs

In a pot, the easiest number of legs to make stable is three. It is the principle of the tripod. You don't seem to find three legs on anything that walks. Legs seem to come in 2's or 4's or many more's. But the legs on my pots allow them to be hung on the wall, like a painting. So they can be art, as well as useful. But not for walking.

Permeable Membranes

Where would we be without them?
Dry,
hungry,
immobile,
insensate,
lifeless,
unconceived.

Imaginary Magnification

This could be the view inside one of the cells of one of the protist forms on the bowl below. Or not. It could just be a pattern on a bowl. That holds food. That is just a bunch of cells that get taken into the cells of the food/bowl/cell contemplating eater.
Such is one of my bowl painting thoughts.
It takes a long time to paint these bowls.
Lots of thoughts.

Proto-protists

Living by the ocean, I imagine protists that never were or might be, cousins of the kelp that I see on my walks.

Deep Bowl

I wonder where this one ended up.

Pattern Variation

Here is that figure again, with appendages and internal workings. A platter that would hold about five oranges.

Hospitality is beautiful.

This is a small earthenware platter with food-safe glazes. It sits sturdily on three little round legs. Its design refers to the symbol used in Japanese gardens for the sake vase, and hospitality. I'm using it to begin because of the suggestion that it is good to share.