Tea bowl c. 20th century

Here's a tea bowl made by Katō Takeshi, and when I look at it, I think about what it's like to work with clay, a medium so elemental, so deeply connected to the earth. I see these chalky white lines zigzagging across the surface, and I wonder if they were drawn with a steady hand or if they emerged through a more intuitive, almost accidental process? The glaze is thick in some spots, thin in others, creating a topography of color and texture. Imagine Takeshi hunched over his wheel, his hands caked in clay, coaxing the form from a lump of earth. What’s he thinking about? What does it feel like to make a tea bowl, knowing it’s going to hold something warm, something comforting, something that brings people together? It's like a conversation between the artist, the material, and the fire, each shaping the final outcome. I think of other potters, too, all reaching for something similar—a balance between form and function, beauty and utility. It's a testament to the enduring power of craft.