Specs: A handmade (but good lord not by me) piece of artwork, this mug is one of a kind and very very mine. It’s made of whatever potting clay is made out of with a shiny glaze inside and out. The word “BEAT” is carved into one side above a hand-etched pattern. It ha a small sophisticated handle and bulges comfortably in the hand.
Rating: 3/5 stars. It’s the perfect size for rationing milk, but not even big enough for hot chocolate. Still, it’s pretty hip.
Summary: This mug has been with me the longest, since I was sixteen. The word “BEAT” on the side isn’t random–I got the mug for free because I bought my tickets in advance for a Beat Slam poetry night the University put on when I was a sophomore in high school and never again. My creative writing teacher offered her students extra credit if they went, and being the academic whore that I was, I absolutely went and took my mom with me.
It was my first exposure to slam poetry and–more dramatically–an open atmosphere about sexuality. The main performer even flashed a diagram of a vagina on the projector and proceeded to rap about it. I was equal parts mortified and excited by the possibility of a community of people, of writers, that accepted and celebrated such a taboo.
I wrote a poem about metaphorical sex with a tomato soon after.