"On a lumpy cup our fire played,
Dumped its ash, and melted clay."
Number 10. Time marches on.
I'm watching a classic French film, which I leave paused at this very moment to do this posting. I'll finish up quickly and get back to it. It's "Army of Shadows", about the French resistance during WWII.
The surface is rustic and rough. The full force of the flame hit it for three days, creating an impasto of wood ash that even obscures the crisp lines of the form in clay.
Yet it will hold tea.
