There was a time when the bowls had the ability to speak and participate in conversations. At the time when the divinities lived on Olympus and the Greek heroes performed their feats, the writing was not silent, but had to be recited to decipher its message before an audience. Back then, Greek vases would present themselves to their onlookers, whispering messages to diners as they sipped their contents, and at other times playfully showing off their beauty.

So oral was the spelling in the Classical Period, that the Hellenic lover Aconcio knew how to creatively conquer his desired Cídipe, dodging all the social barriers between them, throwing her an apple carved with a few lines of text that she could not help but recite when picking it up. In this way, when he found himself in the temple of Artemis and declaimed that he swore by this goddess that he would not marry except with him, a supernatural force ensured that they ended up joining in what would be a happy wedding.

Therefore, if one day writing on mud or food had that power: to allow objects to speak and even unite impossible loves, then a bowl of the present would be honored to preserve that magical reminiscence. Thus, perhaps in the signature we can find messages bequeathed by our ancestors, introducing themselves and undoubtedly talking about love. And who knows if by turning the bowl around, reading, we can discover personal stories and a universe of meanings to be decrypted.

Top image: Devedeux, L. , circa 1850. Diana déesse de la chasse entourée par ses seviteurs dans un cadre forestier lumineux . Oil on canvas, unknown collection .