A wine jug, but not a polite one. The body sits low and broad, the neck rises fast, and the handle feels pulled for grip rather than ceremony. The real draw is the firing. Raku pulls the pot from the kiln while still glowing and cools it fast, often in smoke, so the surface is partly the maker's doing and partly the fire's: here, sand, olive and smoke move across it in a way that makes the jug look weathered before it has even been used.

Functional form, fire-led surface, and no interest in tidying the thing up.