The story of how I met Miro must begin with my friend Jeremy. Years ago, he introduced me to my favorite coffee shop in Downtown Phoenix – Futuro. This is a place with an ability to be indescribable. From the stucco exterior to the pristine white interior, it immediately creates a sense of place and wonder. But the coffee experience would not be complete without the unique ceramics that complement the setting and the drink. My first impression was that they almost looked like little planters, with the rusted terracotta finish, which I loved. And upon closer examination, I really could see that these cups are nuanced beyond compare. The ever so slight lip at the bottom gives it this sort of floating appearance. It is a tactile experience as you hold the rough outside which contrasts so beautifully with the glazed inside. To enjoy such a singular moment was something that left a lasting impression on me. This was back in 2018. I always told myself “One day I’ll get one of these cups”. That thought was always followed by, “who made this?”

6 years have passed. I’m sitting at my laptop here in New York, and I have had the privilege of meeting the wonderful person behind these cups. We had such a lovely conversation a few months ago. I ask myself now, “why have I not been able to write about this dialogue?” What I came to realize is that creatively, some things are just so precious, they can’t be rushed. So, while now I only have a few notes from that chat back in January, the most memorable sentences have stood the test of time. I feel ready to write about them.

It was a beautiful Wednesday morning in the desert. I had been thoroughly enjoying this version of winter in comparison to the East Coast. Earlier in the month I reached out to Miro and was more than ecstatic when she agreed to speak with me about her work. And so there we were at Futuro, to get an insight into the work but more importantly the person behind it. There was almost a sense of irony as we both have her cups in hand and were sitting in this exact place – a full circle moment indeed.

Miro was raised in Pennsylvania and studied at Carnegie Mellon. Her and her husband both practice architecture, which is wonderful because, at least to me, you can always spot an architect. There is a certain approach to life and curiosity that exists. Nonetheless, after practicing architecture for a number of years, Miro desired to hone in on her craft and pursued her hobby of pottery further. An interesting conversation is begging to be had as you think of what type of ceramics result from the hands of an architect.

I asked how her practice in architecture influenced her work as a ceramicist. She mentioned an interesting story about a set of stairs back at Carnegie Mellon. She observed that a certain part of the stairs was so smooth because, over time, that’s where all the students would walk. There is a direct connection to her work. When she first makes a piece, it is rougher on the outside, but as it is used, as the hands hold, what was once rough becomes a smooth surface. In fact, she could tell which pieces had been at Futuro longer just by the feel. Truly, the prize of time.

There is also great influence in her design from Korean culture. The ethos is always that of respect and serving others. This feeds into the look and feel of each cup. Most mugs will have a handle, but Miro’s don’t -and for good reason. There is a way in which you hold the cup, with one hand at the bottom and one finger length at the top. This simple motion heightens your awareness and relationship with the piece. It increases intentionality beautifully. This also speaks to the act of serving others. The proportions of her cups are slightly smaller than most. This is to encourage the act of refilling. When you must refill a cup, it fosters further interaction between host and guest, strengthening the bond ever so subtly. This also builds a sense of longing and happiness in the guests when they receive a freshly filled cup once again. An elegant example of how we interact with good design.

I asked Miro about her family, and quickly I realized how much your environment plays a role into your output. Her mother is a painter, and her sister Mimi is also an artist. Mimi had an exhibit at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art which I had an opportunity to visit. It’s beautiful to see how the two sisters have their own form of expression through art. What I love is that Mimi had a big role in the naming of “Miro Made This”. She helped with the graphic design and branding of her sister’s work. One day while doing a brainstorm session with different word groupings, “Miro Made This” came along. They imagined their mother saying the name, and it instantly clicked. It does have a nice ring to it. Its playful, but it’s also personal. It plainly says, “someone made what you are holding”. And yet, it’s not overt. The stamp that comes at the bottom of each cup forms a perfect, gentle square. Even this fades away slowly as time passes, nearly symbolizing your role as the owner of the cup, leaving your mark. What a collaboration – a dynamic duo. One must wonder what conversations at family dinners must sound like.

It’s interesting to me the things that inspire others, and this was no exception for Miro. She talked about how materiality is very important to her. Finding the element of ritual in everyday objects. Things should have texture. An experience should be tactile. Even the patterns in the feathers of her chickens has been impactful (she’s had 8 chickens for the last 15 years, and they love her ceramics just as much as me). I really learned from this, because at least for me creativity is my source of creativity. But naturally occurring things in our everyday life can prove to be a grand source of ideation.

Miro looks forward to delving further into the art aspect of ceramics. In her recent “almost as good as new” series, the bowls are broken and threaded together with string. An ode to how life is fragile, and sometimes broken, but still very beautiful.

I think back to my first interaction with her work in 2018. What this teaches me is that good design just lasts. But even more so, it tells a story. 2 years later in 2020, a vulnerable time for all of us, I received a gift from Jeremy. It was one of Miro’s cups. It was a reminder of pre-pandemic times. Now, the cup is a reminder of those times, but the silver linings found within. Yes, we couldn’t go places, but I came to love the little moments at home with my cup. Each coffee meant that much more. The cup was treated even more carefully than the rest. It had a special shelf in the kitchen. It never saw a dishwasher. Eventually when lockdown subsided, it became the cup of choice by all my guests. When moving to New York with only a few bags on the plane, this cup was nestled in between my clothes, carefully wrapped. As I drink from it now, this cup isn’t just a cup. It’s a reminder of friendship, of creativity, of the places I’ve been, and the places I might go.

Thank you Miro.

MIRO MADE THIS | CONVO

GRACE FARMS | ARC