to see the world
my obsession with a beautiful teapot
One of the things that I like about Netflix is the exposure I’ve gotten to movies and television from other countries. Sure I could have gone to film festivals or indie theaters or things like that but I never did. It felt artsy and inaccessible and then Netflix started streaming that stuff into my house and having binged everything else why not. That’s how I found the Danish thriller Equinox and that’s how I got obsessed with the Per Rehfeldt Åbo teapot made by Soholm on Bornholm.
It made a brief, maybe 2 minute, appearance in the background of the main character’s dining room and I was smitten. It’s a beautiful oval teapot tilted at a slight angle and nestled in a brazier. I started googling. Round teapot. Oval teapot. Teapot in brazier. Teapot on stand. Then I looked up the TV show and saw that it was from Denmark so I googled Danish teapot and there it was. For sale on Etsy. I clicked the link and wow. $500 plus shipping. Mid-century pottery is not cheap.
I put the teapot out of my head.
Sort of.
Not really.
Periodically I would google it again to see if it was listed anywhere else, perhaps by somebody who didn’t know what they had. That does happen. Not for me though. Whenever it was available the seller knew exactly what it was worth. One time I saw it in a beautiful mossy green but I just couldn’t justify the cost. $500 plus shipping. For a teapot.
Then.
One day I was posting on Twitter about my resolution to finally drink all that tea that’s been accumulating in my cupboard. Like many people I love the idea of tea. It seems so cozy and nice. I buy all kinds of it but when I go to make a cup I make a basic grocery store orange pekoe. But not this year. This year I decided I would drink all that tea and I tweeted about it. Somebody responded that obviously I would need a new teapot and without intending to buy it I googled abo teapot so that I could show them this extravagant beauty and it happened.
It was for sale. $400 plus shipping. In a beautiful soft white.
I had $400 in my drawer. Because I’m 57 years old and my mother still gives me Christmas money which I agonize over spending. It’s bizarre. I will drop $30-$50 on a book without thinking. Washi tape? Pantry storage. Click click click. Cute birds for my bathroom? Click. But gift cards and Christmas money I agonize over. Regular money gets replenished on a semi-regular basis. My pension gets deposited. Money from writing or speaking gets deposited. But gift money? Who knows when I’ll get more of that so I agonize over how I will spend it.
Click.
With shipping it was almost $500. A bargain right? I mean, the others were $500 plus shipping so this was a great deal.
I panicked.
This is easily the most ridiculous thing I have ever purchased. My god. I run a foundation. This would have paid somebody’s rent arrears. Bought groceries. Done all manner of good in the world.
I had copies of my book at home, leftovers from some event, so I posted about this impulsive purchase and offered signed copies of my book to anyone who wanted them and once again the people of the internet came through. In Canada and the US people bought copies of the book and some just sent donations to fund the teapot.
That’s beautiful isn’t it?
Most of the people who bought the book commented their support of the teapot. Because it is beautiful. And the world needs beautiful things or what are we fighting for? Why are we doing all this? Not for $500 teapots, but for a world where we can make and have beautiful things without beauty belonging mostly to the wealthy. Think about how much beauty is accessible only to certain populations. Sure the sunrise is beautiful and a baby’s smile and all that yes. But think about how expensive and inaccessible so much beauty is. It gets hoarded like a resource and then access to it is parceled out to ticket holders or those who can afford the rent or the travel. There are a thousand ways that beauty is made inaccessible, as if we can’t be trusted with it. As if we’re the ones who are ruining the planet because we don’t know how to take care of beautiful things.
I replenished my panic-spent Christmas money and honestly I don’t know what I wound up spending it on. Most likely books. Probably paid some bills. Was somewhat responsible. There was a little drama over shipping but it got sorted out and after two months the teapot arrived.
It really is the most beautiful teapot in the world.
And you know what? It’s stained inside. Which means I can make tea in it because it isn’t in some pristine condition that makes it untouchable. I can make and drink tea thinking about whoever owned it before me and how much they enjoyed its functional beauty. Thinking about people in my corner of Twitter and Facebook who agreed that beauty is worth something, even ridiculous extravagant beauty in a world full of need. Thinking about a world where beauty is not hoarded in the hands of a few, artsy and inaccessible, but available and celebrated. Not just in a mass market kind of way like Netflix, nor something for when you’re finished working or deserve it. Not something extra to your life but something part of your life.
Like a beautiful teapot.