I found these bird plates in a shop called,
I immediately clicked on the profile thinking, this shop name has to have a story!
And it does.
This artist's story is so beautifully written, I have to share it verbatim....
My mother was a potter and art teacher. Under her influence I grew up making art, but concentrated on the written word in school, eventually earning a PhD in literature in 1994. That same year my mom died from breast cancer, leaving me her well-used wheel, kiln, and a series of mysterious glaze recipes. It took nearly ten years and several moves later to see what I had inherited. I found myself in Southern Oregon, teaching literature but connecting with a group of ceramic artists who showed me how to shape the fog of grief into the delight of working with clay. During those years, my studio was a 6X6 foot pumphouse where I worked every spare moment, making pots and competing with the pump and waterlines for space. My kiln was outside. As a result, I like to say that my apprenticeship in ceramics was literally affected by the rolling of the seasons and the events of the natural world around me.
I think these three would look superb hanging together.