The sun sets, the moon rises, the tide ebbs and flows—the natural cycles of day and night, high and low, waxing and waning. People, too, change with these rhythms. This constant state of flux is the essence of what we call “life.”
In September 2022, two young women arrived at my door. “We are potters from Tainan and we are referred to by a cafe nearby. We are looking for a place where we can sell our work.” This encounter felt familiar to me.
To break the slightly awkward atmosphere, I gave the visiting potters a big smile and said, “What era is this? Who still goes around to every store with their work, hoping to consign it?” This was not meant as a put-down, but rather an appreciation for that bygone era—a time before WhatsApp and Facebook, when people would simply bring their portfolios and wait for the chance to be interviewed. That was a simple and beautiful time.
“Why don’t you come set up a booth instead? At the end of this month, we’ll have a pop-up coffee shop operating here, and you can display your work without paying any rental fees. Just bring your ceramics.” This is how I met Xiao Pei and came to know about Mound Pottery.
In April 2024, the duo established their own studio space, Day Day Studio, in a two-story house in Tainan. The basement serves as their ceramic studio, classroom, and kitchen, while the first floor is dedicated to an exhibition area and their living quarters. An electric kiln is placed right by the entrance. Though it’s only a two-year lease, this new space represents an important milestone for the young potters, integrating their living and working environments.
The new studio space has brought positive changes for Xiao Pei and her ceramics. Her work has become more technically refined, and she continues to focus on creating high-footed tableware, utilizing engobes to bring colors to her work. The centerpiece of their classroom workspace is a large, simple workbench made of wood and steel. Here, I observe Xiao Pei using a sponge to apply glazes in rich shades that are reminiscent of chocolate, matcha, and milk tea ice cream, onto the high-footed pieces she produces.
“What I enjoy most is applying the brushwork. Sometimes I don’t even have a plan in mind. I just look at the piece, choose a brush or sponge based on instinct, and let the process become its own unique expression.” The ice cream-like engobes are colored powdered clay and fire opaquely; due to their inherent properties and also the unique nature of the brushwork and sponging techniques, the traces of the potter’s hand remain visible even after firing, as if recording the intimate conversation that has taken place between the ceramic work and the potter.
“I love finding traces. Recently, my potter friend Xiao Mie from ALBSTUFF invited me to join them on a trip to Sicao to pick wild flowers.” Xiao Pei’s expression brightens as she speaks, a common joy shared by young women when recounting such outings. She continued, “I wish I could have gone with them that day.” Picking up an ALBSTUFF vase Xiao Pei brought along some time ago that is holding some vibrant blooms, I can’t help but think the sight of them gathering flowers in the Sicao must have been even more beautiful than doing pottery in the studio.
“Xiao Mie is really good at spotting wild flowers. We often overlook those small things in our daily lives, like the moss and dried leaves. For my high-footed pieces, I actually throw them upside-down first, then refine the front and details. I think looking at the world upside-down is really cool, even if it makes my head spin a bit,” said Xiao Pei.
Nature itself is precise yet subtly imperfect, orderly yet natural. The changes in life encompass experiences viewed from an abundance of different perspectives. Each piece is adorned with a rugged, brushed texture, making it unique. Yet, the pieces combine into cohesive collections. Like weathered iron rusting and mottling, Xiao Pei’s ceramics bear the passage of time.
In the early days of establishing her studio, Xiao Pei was impatient to bring all of her ideas to life. “But you can’t rush the process of making pottery. It depends on the humidity in the air, and you have to wait patiently for it to dry. Until it reaches just the right hardness, you can then apply the details at the perfect moment, and fire it in the kiln at the ideal time.” The craft of pottery seems to have taught Xiao Pei that some things in life simply cannot be hurried. It has granted her a time to slow down, to truly feel the process, and to live more mindfully.