Every kiln has a book. Ours records each firing: the glaze batch, the loading pattern, the hour the temperature peaked, the weather outside. Over years, the book becomes a map of what fire does when nobody is watching.
Transmutation glazes are mixed to be unstable. Inside the kiln, their minerals separate and recombine as they please — iron bleeding into russet, copper flashing green where the flame licked longest. We compose the conditions; the fire writes the sentence.
This is why no two FireGlaze vessels are alike, and why we photograph and number each one. A client does not buy a glaze recipe. They adopt a single, unrepeatable event that happened at 1,300°C on a particular Tuesday.
