The world is so loud … keep falling, I’ll find you.

Kate Bush, Snowflake

Tonight’s full moon is a harvest moon – the full moon closest to the autumnal equinox.

I went to the pottery early in the morning to unload the kiln. The city was empty, virtually devoid of traffic, and very quiet. At one point there was a mineral, glittering sound which seemed to swell out of nowhere and pour over me and got so loud I had to stop my bike to see where it was coming from. It was only the wind in the branches of a tree, but because the racket that usually clutters up the air wasn’t there, the sound of it spread like incense.

Sylwia and I were talking recently about the kind of pots we want to make. Quiet pots that somehow claim the space they occupy. Pots that don’t shout for attention but are proper and truthful, with a real presence. Pots that would be as happy balanced on a flat stone in the middle of a stream as in a kitchen. Maybe when we’re very old we might approach this kind of fluency.

Imagine a pot that makes you feel at home, or like being a better person. One that suggests a certain way of being in the world; that embodies a secret message you could follow for a different kind of life.

Our friend John Christie, who wood-fires at his home in the north of Scotland, works with tried and trusted forms that have a strong presence but are also, in his own words, ‘quiet’.

He takes his inspiration from the natural world, sensing in the colours of the land around a timeless energy and calm purpose that comes out in his work.

He sometimes talks about ‘changing the world one pot at a time’. Maybe the values inherent in the pot I hold in my hands could over time become part of my values too. Maybe using a vessel that was made with skill and love could change the way I think, and feel.

What do you think?