In the depths of the basement clay studio at the University of Kansas back in the mid-1980s, I handbuilt numerous non-functional vessels of porcelain. I loved that clay, the texture was so luscious! My professor thought I was a little nuts because I liked porcelain best after its first firing. I would spray my pieces with iron oxide, then smoke fire them for random flashes of black and gray. The surface was very velvety to the touch, but the vessels were delicate.

Knowing I would be moving around a lot after graduating, I left most of my pieces at my mom’s house for safe keeping. They didn’t move for 38 years until I took them away when she relocated to a nursing home (she has recently passed away). Since my mom was a smoker, the vessels had absorbed nicotine. 

I sprayed the vessels with vinegar outside in my yard and washed them down. I left them under a tree for the summer so the noxious nicotine smell could dissipate. Well, as luck would have it, my home got hit by a massive hailstorm with baseball-sized stones. Even under the tree, tucked away, the vessels got pummeled. The damaged porcelain was irreparable. All those years of keeping them safe, all for naught!

So I decided the best course of action was to take a sledge hammer to the vessels, work out some anger at our current presidential administration and his goons, and bury the shards. Here are the vessels, smashed to pieces. While I was quite sad to destroy my work, my actions also were cathartic.

By the way, the wood-fired cone 12 stoneware pieces I left near the porcelain vessels survived the hailstorm. Lesson learned.