A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever
Porcelain never rusts, never tarnishes. It is incredibly tough and stain resistant. It is easy to clean so its beautiful luminance will last a lifetime and beyond.
Porcelain is a Eco-sensitive material. There is something pure in taking a simple clay from the ground and turning it in to something functional, beautiful and permanent.
Limoges porcelain is unmatched in beauty. It is tactile, warm and has a luminance that makes it appear almost soft. The quality of the light that it refects into your room is warm, bringing a unique soften and glow to skin and anything it touches.
Since 1997 our master craftsperson, Julie Lam, has developed a unique porcelain slip that we now use. The forms and sizes we create, require a unique porcelain that does not distort or collapse during the high temperature firing. Fine porcelain is notoriously difficult to work with, and often low quality clays are used to create objects of this size and weight. When you experience our lights in the flesh, we hope you’ll understand why we’ve put so much effort in to doing it this way.
Every piece we make is handmade and inscribed with a unique number. We hope you will enjoy your lights forever and that their loveliness increases.
More about the eco-sensitivity of porcelain >
From Endymion By John Keats
A Poetic Romance (excerpt) BOOK 1.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple’s self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be shine, or gloom o’ercast;
They always must be with us, or we die.
Therefore, ‘tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city’s din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I’ll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimm’d and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finish’d: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end.
And now, at once adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed.