BASHO MIKOMI

I took a large group of photos of a Furutani Kazuya chawan some months back and put them in a folder and only recently really looked them over. As soon as I saw this particular picture, a detail of the mikomi, the pool and interior I was reminded of a favorite poem by Matsuo Basho that I think about from time to time while enjoying the moonlight piercing the trees throughout the Mohawk River Valley. This detail shot clearly shows the beautiful build up of natural ash inside the chawan creating a deep green pool with areas of fractured crust that tried building up on the liquid contents at the height of the firing. It is quite easy to see all of the rivers of ash moving into the lowest point of the chawan's interior painting a wonderful if unintentional pattern which is honestly made even more brilliant by the addition of the sun. As I am often reminded, this is only a solitary detail but even so, I can do with details like this singular or otherwise in all the wood fired pots that I get to see and handle.

Moonlight slanting

through the bamboo groove;

a cuckoo crying     (Basho)