Deep cerulean glazed clay mug: Difference between revisions
No edit summary |
(Added template) |
||
(2 intermediate revisions by 2 users not shown) | |||
Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
{{H4HItem |
|||
Prize item for [[Hunt for History]]. |
|||
⚫ | |||
⚫ | |show = The bulbous base of this tall mug flares up toward a fluted rim, providing balance to an otherwise delicate form. Deep cerulean blue of the silky matte glaze highlights a net pattern design overlaid with abstract calligraphic fish designs. At the base of the thin arched handle, a tiny glyph of a circle encloses the word "Oblone", the glaze slightly darker to distinguish the maker's mark from the rest of the piece. |
||
|details = This appears to be the work of a potter from [[Oblone]]. |
|||
⚫ | |||
⚫ | |||
=== [[Show]] === |
|||
⚫ | The bulbous base of this tall mug flares up toward a fluted rim, providing balance to an otherwise delicate form. Deep cerulean blue of the silky matte glaze highlights a net pattern design overlaid with abstract calligraphic fish designs. At the base of the thin arched handle, a tiny glyph of a circle encloses the word "Oblone", the glaze slightly darker to distinguish the maker's mark from the rest of the piece. |
||
<b><I>The work of a potter from Oblone.</i></b> |
|||
=== [[Loresong]] (part 1) === |
|||
⚫ | |||
A vivid portrait of a warm seashore day develops in front of your eyes. Blinking into a glaring white sky and light-refracting indigo sea, you find yourself on the bustling edges of a small fishing village. Boats half-ashore unload nets of shiny wriggling fish, men haggle with wildly-gesticulating mongers, and children scrabble for clams along the waterline. Striding purposefully down the dirt frontage road is a young aproned potter, greeted by passersby and peddler alike, most of them carrying a noticeable mixture of human and elven features. A comforting setting of neighborly tranquility this is, and you trace a path behind the young craftsperson into a cottage workshop filled with the tantalizing earthy smell of clay and the warmth of a baking kiln. |
A vivid portrait of a warm seashore day develops in front of your eyes. Blinking into a glaring white sky and light-refracting indigo sea, you find yourself on the bustling edges of a small fishing village. Boats half-ashore unload nets of shiny wriggling fish, men haggle with wildly-gesticulating mongers, and children scrabble for clams along the waterline. Striding purposefully down the dirt frontage road is a young aproned potter, greeted by passersby and peddler alike, most of them carrying a noticeable mixture of human and elven features. A comforting setting of neighborly tranquility this is, and you trace a path behind the young craftsperson into a cottage workshop filled with the tantalizing earthy smell of clay and the warmth of a baking kiln. |
||
Line 33: | Line 21: | ||
Your intonations fade gently to a close and you reopen your eyes, taking a deep satisfied breath. |
Your intonations fade gently to a close and you reopen your eyes, taking a deep satisfied breath. |
||
'''Part II:'''<br> |
|||
=== [[Loresong]] (part 2) === |
|||
<b><I>Part 2 of loresong needed.</i></b> |
<b><I>Part 2 of loresong needed.</i></b> |
||
}} |
|||
==Reference== |
|||
Unofficial documentation located here: http://members.aol.com/gs3augie/claymug.html |
|||
[[Category: Hunt for History]] |
Latest revision as of 15:49, 27 November 2019
This item was a prize from the Hunt for History.
Item
a deep cerulean glazed clay mug
Show
The bulbous base of this tall mug flares up toward a fluted rim, providing balance to an otherwise delicate form. Deep cerulean blue of the silky matte glaze highlights a net pattern design overlaid with abstract calligraphic fish designs. At the base of the thin arched handle, a tiny glyph of a circle encloses the word "Oblone", the glaze slightly darker to distinguish the maker's mark from the rest of the piece.
Details
This appears to be the work of a potter from Oblone.
Loresong
Part I:
As your voice thrums across the form of the mug in your hands, a salty tang pervades your nostrils and it feels as though a light mist bathes your face.
A vivid portrait of a warm seashore day develops in front of your eyes. Blinking into a glaring white sky and light-refracting indigo sea, you find yourself on the bustling edges of a small fishing village. Boats half-ashore unload nets of shiny wriggling fish, men haggle with wildly-gesticulating mongers, and children scrabble for clams along the waterline. Striding purposefully down the dirt frontage road is a young aproned potter, greeted by passersby and peddler alike, most of them carrying a noticeable mixture of human and elven features. A comforting setting of neighborly tranquility this is, and you trace a path behind the young craftsperson into a cottage workshop filled with the tantalizing earthy smell of clay and the warmth of a baking kiln.
A smile plays across the potter's lips and the idyllic setting fades into swirls of color. You breathe deeply and reopen your sight to your real surroundings.
You grip the mug and the warm tactile feel of the glazed clay under your fingers lulls you into drowsiness.
The vision again settles into the warm homey workshop, with various pottery projects lining the rough wooden shelves around the work area. As you slide deeper into the sensations of the place and person, your hands dip into cool clear water and you pull large chunks of damp clay out of a rounded metallic vessel. Slapping the rough-edged pulls of raw clay onto your flat worktable, you begin crafting smoothly with your strong, nimble hands. Dappling splashes of water into the lump of warming clay, it softens readily as you methodically roll and fold it. A form begins to reveal itself beneath your touch, your hands guided by the medium itself to fit the shape held within. You revel in the touch of the pliant loam, and a wispy cool breeze carried in from the sea drifts through a flung-open window, refreshing you and balancing the waves of warmth from the kiln.
Floating back into consciousness, the visions and feelings of warmth and comfort slowly ebb, leaving you relaxed and pleasant-minded.
Singing to the mug in your hands, it hums and vibrates as relaxation floods your limbs, your hands flexing slightly as if you were indeed shaping the mug you hold.
The slip of the clay under your practiced touch becomes an undulating caress as the substance takes form into a tall mug. You smooth the curves from the bulbous base to the slightly flared lip, tracing the inner and outer surfaces with the barest skin of water separating you from the mud. A spindle of clay relaxes under your direction, becoming an arched handle wide enough for an easy grip, yet flat and thin so as not to overwhelm the fluted symmetry of the vessel. Marrying the two pieces and coaxing away the seams with a wet fingertip, a sensation of accomplishment warms you.
Your intonations fade gently to a close and you reopen your eyes, taking a deep satisfied breath.
Part II:
Part 2 of loresong needed.