Every pot, remembered.
A pottery journal that learns. Follow every piece from the first idea to the kiln opening — and let a year of firings tell you what to do next time.
Thursday Night
The kiln has been unloaded. The pickup shelf is three rows deep with pots that all look a little alike, and somewhere in the second row is yours — the tall mug with the handle you finally pulled right.
It’s beautiful. The blue came down from the rim and melted into the dark brown, pooling in the throwing rings like water in a creek bed. Someone at the next table asks what you used.
And you don’t know. The studio tenmoku, probably. Then the blue. Or the other blue. Dipped twice? For how long? Your notebook, crusted with slip, says “mug — tenmoku + blue??”
Every potter has a pot they loved and can’t make again.
Witness
Named for the witness cone — the small ceramic cone that sits beside the work in the kiln and bends at a known heat, the honest record of what actually happened. Witness is that record, for every pot you make — and a sketchbook for the ones you haven’t made yet.
Your studio’s test tiles, in your pocket. Community studios can publish each location’s tile wall, clay bodies, and glazes. Scan the code under any tile and it opens in Witness — with your own results beside it.
The Sketchbook
The other half of Witness is a place for what isn’t a pot yet. The bark on the walk to the studio. The handle you thought of on the drive home. The two glazes you keep meaning to try together.

Someone at the next table asks what you used. Now you can tell them exactly. Send the piece as a recipe — every glaze layer in order, the dip times, the clay, the cone, a photo — through Messages or AirDrop, with your name on it.
It opens in their Witness with their own glazes already matched, ready to save to their sketchbook or plan as a test tile. No account, no feed, nothing posted. Just one potter handing another the answer.

A Day in the Life
At the studio’s tile wall, a glossy blue breaking over dark brown stops you. You photograph it into your Sketchbook, Chun over Tenmoku?, and drop it on your Spring market mugs board.
You open the page and tap Make This. You cut 794 grams of Speckled Buff, because that’s what made last month’s mug. Witness gives the mug a three-letter code, and you scratch it into the foot.
You trim. “Log the weight in Witness.” The scale settles at 598 grams — down 24.7 percent, right on your usual number for this clay.
You say the layers out loud as you work — Tenmoku, four seconds; Chun on the top third, three — and write one line: what you’re hoping for.
The Chun ran six millimeters past where you meant it to, and pooled in the throwing rings. It’s the best thing you’ve made. Surprise. Next time: dip it two seconds, not three.
Someone at the studio asks how you got that blue. You send it to them as a recipe. It lands in their Sketchbook, with their own studio’s Tenmoku already matched.
The kiln still decides. Now you remember what you asked it.
Be Honest
You bought it with good intentions. It’s mostly blank after page six, because nobody wants to write with slip on their hands.
Witness is coming to iPhone, iPad, and Mac.
Coming Soon