A potted plant is like a dancing bear. We put birds in cages, fish in tanks and plants in planters. It’s our way of controlling beautiful things and making sure that they never run away from us. Over it’s lifetime a planter will bear witness to the slow murder of any number of once vibrant, healthy plants. More often than not the cause of death is dehydration, sometimes it's starvation or more ironically… drowning. When we see a dying plant our first instinct is to give it some water, lots of water. Like force feeding a starving child twenty litres of porridge until it chokes to death we give the dying plant a good big drink and watch it die. Some people think that keeping potted plants in their homes improves the air quality but think nothing of dropping an unapologetically horrible fart in the same room. Some people think it’s Zen, like holding a monk prisoner in your toilet and feeding it only poo particles and over spray. Other well meaning aesthetes feel that holding a life hostage in their lounge improves the look of the room and feels more natural than, say, a clock. But where's the fun in killing a clock?
Stoneware 1300 degrees Celsius. May spark and explode in a microwave because it's full of iron bearing rocks. May bully other crockery if left unsupervised in a cupboard environment. Possibly Incontinent. Hand wash. Made from New Zealand. Stamped STEER like the brand on a colt's arse.
Height - 28 cm (Includes detail)
Width - 21cm (Widest point including detail)