Over a year ago, our very good friends Tamra and Ian got married. It was our first “California wedding,” meaning it was nothing like the weddings I had attended in Minnesota (and I suspect anywhere else in the Midwest!). The most obvious difference was that the ceremony was officiated by both a Buddhist priest and a Catholic priest. But it was the subtle differences that made the evening so enjoyable: the simple, elegant dress (no beads and crinoline here), the setting (outdoors in April in the backyard of a friend’s house high above the Rose Bowl), the food (Creole!), and the guests (friends of all ages, artists, gays, non-white folk, a real Irishman) just to name a few. All in all, it was a spectacular evening that I revisit in my mind many times over. And then smile.

Tamra and Ian are special friends. I love them dearly for their compassion, grace, and downright fun spirits. When I found out they were getting married, I began a quest to find a gift that would be symbolic of their relationship. In other words, I wanted something unique to remind them of their commitment to one another but also something functional and everyday, since that’s what a commitment toward another person is: an everyday, practical effort. I also knew I wanted to commission an artist to make something, because relationships are just that: made from nothing more than a desire or need to create a connection with the soul and then sketched, molded, and shaped into a piece of art.

So I began my search to find an artist to make a wedding gift. I had no idea what I wanted as a gift other than to use the Japanese woodblock design they had on their wedding invitation. I put a call out to artists on Etsy (“Your place to buy & sell all things handmade”) and was open to just about anything: putting the design on a tablecloth and napkins, etching it into wood to make a tray, using textiles to create a hanging piece or blanket, making a stained glass piece, etc. About a dozen artists responded to my request but nothing really stood out. Either I wasn’t satisfied with the artist’s portfolio or I didn’t like any ideas they had come up with. And then, just as I was about to give up on Etsy, I got an email from ceramist artist Laurel Begley. And life became good again.

Laurel said she would be able to put the design on a ceramic sushi set (which included a platter, two dishes, two sake cups, and two sauce dishes). I loved the idea. After checking out her portfolio of work, I was even more excited. And then after reading her story, I was thrilled. I was so impressed with everything—from her suggestions on how to use the design to her promptness in communicating with me to her reasonable prices—that I asked her to make two sets of sushi dishes instead of one.

And so she went to work.

I received my sushi sets in the mail a few days ago, two months (and one broken kiln) after Laurel and I first hammered out the details. It’s hard for me to describe my emotions when I opened the box and unwrapped the pieces from the bubble wrap. One by one, I placed each piece on the dinning room table. And when they were all displayed, I stood back and whispered breathlessly, to no one but myself, “Oh. My. God. They’re beautiful.”

One of the sushi sets.

Inscribed on the back of each platter.

For the next 20 minutes, I couldn’t stop touching and looking at them. I held each piece close to my heart. I turned them over and around and put them back down and picked them up. I arranged them in their two sets and then grouped them together by their function—the four sake glasses and four sauce dishes on one side, the two platters in the middle, the four plates on the other side. When Emmett came home from work and saw them, he was just as stunned by their beauty and quality. He returned to the table where I had them displayed over and over again throughout the evening. Like me, he couldn’t stop touching them. And that’s when, for a brief second, I didn’t want to give them away. I really, really didn’t. They are THAT cool.

Next week, Emmett and I are getting together with Tamra and Ian to give them their gift. I’m pretty sure I will give them both sets of sushi dishes. At the very least, they’ll get one of them. I think.