a favorite mug

It is not right for your favorite mug to be one that you have made. I admit, sometimes I am struck by the way one will come out of the kiln and I'll bring it home to see if it really matches its appearance once put to the test of use. Other times I'll hold onto a cup I have made for the sake of remembering a stage of my growth in clay, or a time that means something, like the mug that I made this summer while I was at Arrowmont and fired in the anagama kiln. But over time, once the tests have been made, once the newness has worn off, I am in the dilemma of having to choose each morning which mug to use. Each one has a name attached to it, a person to think of while I use it. Each is varied in size and form, some better suited to afternoon coffee when my hand is stronger and I am more awake than I am most early mornings. What I need, what I look for in the grey of my kitchen in the morning light, is a mug that will stand strong when I'm not ready to yet. I have one mug that will do that. This mug has nothing flashy to say for itself, its form is a straightforward cylinder, slightly wider at the lip than at the base. But more and more, this is what I search for each morning. Its handle is close and comfortable to hold with two fingers, and the perfect size to slide my fingers through as I allow my hands to cup around the body, drawing warmth from it. I never fail to think about its maker when I choose this mug. Sitting, strong on the counter as I pour my coffee it seems fitting to add my cream and sugar and to stir it with the antique spoon that belonged to my great grandmother. I think that Paige would appreciate the tradition of that. I was given these four spoons so that the morning coffee ritual would mean something more to me and my roommates, bringing back memories of performing the same motions in my own home, alongside my mother. This, I think would also mean something to Paige, with her love of tradition. Now, even more than when I first brought the mug home, I like to be reminded of the one who made it, one who I look up to and respect now more than ever. Today, I think, I want to hold this mug to cheer and pray her on, in a way, as she works towards her next step forward, just as she is good to cheer and encourage me on my own way. The other cups will find use, I am sure. There will come times when it feels right to take one of them down, but for now, in the grey morning light, my hands will search for the feel of my Paige cup.