Walking Wounded: Egg Cup Infatuation

I was thinking about old men in English countrysides eating soft boiled eggs, wiping the runny yolk on linen napkins, discarding it like it was nothing. Then I thought about egg cups, these precious bowls we put the delicate eggs in. And I realized that infatuation is just like an egg cup- it's beautiful and ornate, but holds something that is ultimately unfulfilling. I made this out of wood on the lathe, plunger, pin wheel, paint, epoxy, stain. I hope you like it.