It started as a simple transparent layer - the kind of foundation you lay down before the real work begins in cloisonné. Nothing experimental. Nothing risky. I just wanted to get it done.
I was impatient. The enamel powder was mixed with glue and distilled water, and I didn't wait for it to dry properly. From experience, sometimes the glue doesn't need to fully dry before firing - so I put it in anyway.
What happened next was not what I expected.
The water hadn't evaporated. Inside the kiln, it started to boil. In that moment, it could have gone badly - wet enamel in a hot kiln can spray, crack, scatter. But the glue held it in place. The boiling happened underneath, contained, and what came out the other side had a texture and colour I'd never seen before - something that made me think of whale skin, though not quite right. Whale skin is striped; this was bubbled, pocked, strange in its own way. Alive-looking, but in a different language.
I think I accidentally created a new enameling technique that day. I haven't been able to fully recreate it yet - which is either the most frustrating or the most exciting thing about it, depending on the day.
It lives in the Whoopsies collection now. I love it.