I was taking photos for an ad we are working on and chose this covered jar because the colors looked so good in the fading light. It’s an wood ash glaze, using wood ash from the wood stove that heats our house. So it’s a mix of hardwoods, mostly.
I gave my Mom a lamp that had this glaze on it years ago. Fit the house she had recently remodeled. Lots of wood in the rooms, on the floors and a west facing picture window. The lamp really fit into her mishmash of furniture styles. Mom never threw anything away, something we knew intellectually, and learned physically the hard way after she died ten years ago. Dad would show up with boxes of her papers or little things she collected for years and just thrust them at me, ‘You’ll probably want these,” he’d say and then turn so fast I would have to chase him to give him a hug goodbye.
That house, now occupied by my brother and his new wife, still holds that lamp, I think, somewhere. My Dad remarried, too, and moved, and didn’t need the lamp. I could ask for it, and replace the shade and sell it, because, you know, pottery doesn’t wear out.