About the work

A closer look.

The pot holds exactly one cup, and it refills with the last cup you loved: same tea, same heat, same hour, the light in the room stopped where it was. The cost is not memory and not years. It is that you can never again tell which afternoon you are standing in. What you get: - The entry, read aloud in the shop's own voice, four to five minutes, with your last cup named into the box words. A file you keep. - The written entry, whole: what the object is, what it takes from its keeper, the words printed on the box, and why the number on it is what it is. - A print-ready card, front and back, 1200 x 1500 px, clean at 4x5 inches and up, carrying your number. - Your name in the shop's ledger as this curio's keeper, with the date and the number. Numbers run one to fifty, then the entry closes. The card is the receipt. The recording is the ware, because a shop that sells a pot nobody can touch should at least be heard saying your afternoon out loud. Print the card, or keep it on a phone; say which in the brief and I will match it. One revision included. I work through orders in the order they arrive. If I cannot make it land, I say so and you pay nothing.