Celebrating imperfection

The water cup sitting on the desk before me is now one of a set of four such cups. At one time it was one of a set of six. The cups were made for me over 30 years ago — a birthday gift that my wife commissioned to be made by a dear friend of ours. I love the way it looks and the way it feels. I love the thought that it was thrown and glazed by a woman who is still a dear friend, even though we’ve…