I recently completed this small painting, the first since a devastating fire last December destroyed my studio and most of my art work. Going through the rubble one day, I was surprised to discover a favorite tea cup sitting alone atop the charred remains of my desk. In awe that anything had survived the inferno, I carried the cup home and placed it on a shelf with other pottery.
After a few days of enjoying its refired beauty, I decided to test the cup's major function, holding tea. Hot water pooling on the counter told me it had not come through intact.
I brought the cup with me when I finally moved into a new studio. More than anything, I wanted to again make art, but grief became a roadblock against inspiration. Staring for long periods at the stout container that accompanied me through many creative journeys, I longed for a hot cup of tea. And so, slowly at first, savoring the process, I began to paint.