Berry Bowl Set
They look like they belong on the counter of a sunlit farmhouse kitchen in Provence.
Or maybe on your own windowsill, dripping quietly after a rinse of wild strawberries from the market.
Each hand-thrown bowl rests on its matching saucer, simple as an old tune. Drain holes punched by thumb, glazes brushed by instinct — moss green fading to wheat, cream white to clay, rust to ember. The sort of beauty that doesn’t try too hard, because it doesn’t need to.
These are not bowls that shout. They hum. They remember the weight of peaches, the scent of basil, the rhythm of early morning.
(Stoneware. Dishwasher safe. Good for fruit, herbs, and small miracles.)
Berry Bowl Set
They look like they belong on the counter of a sunlit farmhouse kitchen in Provence.
Or maybe on your own windowsill, dripping quietly after a rinse of wild strawberries from the market.
Each hand-thrown bowl rests on its matching saucer, simple as an old tune. Drain holes punched by thumb, glazes brushed by instinct — moss green fading to wheat, cream white to clay, rust to ember. The sort of beauty that doesn’t try too hard, because it doesn’t need to.
These are not bowls that shout. They hum. They remember the weight of peaches, the scent of basil, the rhythm of early morning.
(Stoneware. Dishwasher safe. Good for fruit, herbs, and small miracles.)
