Out of a fondness and deep nostalgia for a childhood tchotchke, a mug split in half with “You asked for a half a cup of coffee” written on the side, I made a copy from clay. Two halves, next to each other, implying a whole, but since you just asked for half… I exchanged with my parents the original clay figure of the split cup with one I’d modeled from memory. But I couldn’t stop making more. All from clay, but I used molds, and hand building, writing on them with glaze or engraving with letters. And it all remained so unsatisfying--not even close to the original. I couldn’t stop, determined to make more and more. Nostalgia became an exercise in abstraction and literalness, art-making.

Meanwhile, I was learning to quilt. I practiced by making the traditional log cabin square over and over again. More obsession.

I assumed by continuing to make both these repetitive processes in clay and cloth, then why would become apparent. Nope. I loved “You asked for half a cup of coffee.” I embraced the mythology surrounding the historical Log Cabin quilt square. The middle square is traditionally red, symbolizing the hearth. If the middle square is black, and the quilt square is hung outside, it signifies a safe house along the Underground Railroad.

As 2021 was coming to an end--frustrated and at a loss, I realized I could recover from this production chaos with a line from a Wallace Stevens poem “oh, Blessed rage for order.” I sewed all the piles of squares together, incorporated painted lines of “You asked for half a cup of coffee,” made quilt squares of coffee cups, cut them in half, consolidated all the ceramic half mugs to a shelf, and glazed shapes and letters together in tiles. Done.

Above: You Asked for Half a Cup of Coffee, glazed terracotta, 60 x 30 x 5”, 2021