A strong hand-built cylinder torn open at the top. The maker has split the rim on two sides and eased the walls apart into a deep cleft, so the mouth reads as two soft peaks rather than a finished circle, the raw edge left exactly where the tearing stopped. It stands tall and gently waisted, an upright studio form that puts all its drama at the lip.

The walls were worked against coarse hessian while the clay was soft, and the weave stays pressed into the surface as a fine grid you catch in the light. Over it runs a dusty blue ash glaze that pools and breaks against iron-brown and bare stoneware, drifting up the body like weather coming over a hill, while the inside is flashed a warm toffee by the firing. The base is left raw and unsigned. No maker has surfaced, so it stands on the form and the surface, which is what got it picked up in the first place.