But oh! We have a hand thrown earthen mug in our very own home that has never been filled with anything but pens. With mixed shame and pleasure, I rescued it from a little seen alcove table in the sewing/treadmill room. Lesley had bought this beautiful piece of craft from a fellow art student named Rochel and given it to Don, but the handle-less vessel didn't call to his hand, or to mine at the time.
I abandoned my factory made snowman mug, also given to Don, by one of his students, and poured hot coffee into the earthen mug.
How had I settled for the straight, smooth factory ceramic when I could have felt the slight curve and the subtle striations in my hand and the slightly thicker glossy glazed lip on my lips, and looked at the artistic Rothko squares instead of a cartoon snowman?
And I never hold a mug by the handle anyway.
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