A worktable before the kiln
There is a particular kind of quiet around a new ceramic sample. Nothing has settled into certainty yet. The glaze exists as a test, the linework as a decision, and the mug as a promise that still has to pass through fire. On our worktable now is one 12oz Wild Strawberry Vine Stoneware Mug, shown in three rotation views so we can read the full design without mistaking those angles for separate pieces.

The unfolded drawing measures 240mm from end to end. It begins near one side of the handle, travels low across the body, and stops before reaching the handle again. Leaves lean in different directions. Small five-petal flowers interrupt the stem. Strawberries hang with their seeds left as tiny openings of Vanilla Ice glaze. The sequence is open rather than closed, with breathing room built into the design.
This is the stage we wanted to share: before the sample becomes a listing, while we are still looking closely at how the vine rests against the curve of the mug. Studio Notes gives us room to show that slower middle. It is less polished than a finished product reveal, but more honest about how an object finds its final form.
From a distance, the design seems simple: a warm cream mug with a terracotta vine near the base. Up close, every choice becomes practical. The motif has to stay low enough for the upper cup to remain quiet, while the handle area needs smooth glaze where the fingers settle. These decisions are measured in millimeters, yet they change the whole feeling of holding the mug.
What a wild vine teaches about slow growth
The first idea came from the way wild strawberry plants move across the ground. They do not rise in one commanding stem. They travel sideways, close to the soil, making space for another leaf, another flower, then fruit when the time is right. Their shape feels modest and persistent.
We kept that low movement in the mug design. The vine sits within the lower third instead of climbing toward the rim. Its tallest point is about 30mm, so the upper body remains mostly open Vanilla Ice glaze. Morning light can move across that quiet surface before finding the darker line below. The effect is gentle, with enough detail to reward a closer look but not so much that the cup feels busy.
The sequence of leaves, blossoms, and strawberries also holds several moments of growth at once. A flower has not yet become fruit. A small berry has not reached the same shape as the one beside it. Nothing needs to be hurried into matching. That uneven rhythm belongs naturally on handmade stoneware, where a drawn edge may soften and a speck in the glaze may land somewhere unexpected.
Slow living is often presented as a perfectly arranged hour, but most days do not offer one. A quieter practice can be smaller: letting coffee steep without checking a screen, standing near the window for the first few sips, or holding the mug with both hands before returning to work. The vine does not ask for a dramatic change. It stays near the earth and keeps moving at its own pace.

Wax, glaze, and what remains bare
The color contrast does not come from a printed surface decoration. It is created through a wax-resist process. The strawberry vine, leaves, flowers, and fruit are protected with wax before the mug receives its Vanilla Ice speckled glaze. In the kiln, the wax burns away. The protected areas remain unglazed, revealing an exposed raw terracotta stoneware silhouette against the creamy surface.
This gives the motif a dry, matte character while the surrounding glaze feels smoother under the fingers. The difference is subtle, but it matters. When the cup is turned in the hand, the lower vine can be felt as a change in surface rather than a heavy raised ornament. The material does not need extra decoration to announce itself; clay and glaze are allowed to remain visibly different.
Wax resist also leaves room for small variations. A painted edge may carry a slight wobble. The glaze may pull back a little differently around one leaf than another. Brown speckles appear across the Vanilla Ice surface without following a repeated pattern. We do not treat those shifts as flaws to disguise. They are part of the evidence that the piece passed through human hands and a real firing.
The open seed details inside several strawberries are especially small, but they help the design breathe. Cream glaze remains visible within the terracotta fruit, linking the motif back to the body of the mug. From across a table, the berry reads as a simple silhouette. At closer range, the pale seeds and hand-drawn edges become clearer. It is a detail meant for daily discovery rather than instant impact.
Designed for the hands
A botanical pattern can look complete on a flat page and still feel wrong once it approaches a handle. That is why the 240mm artwork was planned with two deliberate pauses. On each side of the handle, 10mm of clean, glaze-only surface remains free of the motif. No stem or leaf crosses that space.
Those small gaps protect the calmest contact area of the cup. Fingers can settle around the handle against smooth Vanilla Ice glaze. When the mug is cradled with both hands, the palm and lower fingertips can meet the matte terracotta vine instead. The same object offers two textures depending on how it is held.
Placement near the base also gives the cup a visual sense of weight. The stem appears to rest on the mug rather than float across its center. Above it, the open cream surface keeps the cylindrical form clear. This balance was one reason we chose a 30mm-high motif instead of allowing the leaves and fruit to climb farther upward.
There is also a practical pleasure in knowing where a design ends. The vine does not pretend to continue through a hidden area. Turn the handle toward you and the two clean margins are visible. Turn the mug slowly, and the artwork unfolds in sequence before coming to rest again. The pause around the handle belongs to the composition as much as the flowers do.
At home, this is the kind of detail that becomes familiar through repetition. A thumb finds the upper curve of the handle. The other hand settles beneath the warm body. Over time, the positions require no thought. Good proportions disappear into the ritual of use, leaving only the sense that the cup sits naturally in the hands.

A patient invitation to the first firing
We imagine the first morning with this mug as something unforced: coffee with milk, tea, or a chilled strawberry drink carried to a bright kitchen table. The drink is personal. The useful pause is the same. For a few minutes, there is warm stoneware, soft window light, and the small decision not to hurry the first sip.
This sample is still part of our work-in-progress journal. Small-batch stoneware and wax resist both ask for time, including the waiting that happens after the maker's hands have finished their part. That pace is why we are opening pre-order and early-bird studio access as an invitation into the process, rather than promising the speed of a warehouse shelf. We will share the mug as it moves from drawing to firing, with enough space to notice what changes and what remains true to the original study.
For now, the wild strawberry vine stays where it began: close to the base, warm against the Vanilla Ice glaze, and carefully separated from the handle by two clean pauses. It carries leaves, flowers, and fruit without rushing any one of them to the center. Perhaps that is what we hope the finished mug will bring to an ordinary day: a useful object that quietly keeps one unhurried moment within reach.
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