The fire has begun. 

The kiln was litted, and for the next 60 hours it became the center of our world. No sleep, no schedule — just the steady rhythm of feeding wood, watching flames, and listening to the kiln breathe. 

We started slow with small kindling, letting the temperature rise gently so the pieces inside could adjust to the heat. By evening the firebox was glowing orange, and we began stoking in earnest — eucalyptus, fruitwood, and pine logs sliding into the hungry mouth of the kiln every few minutes. The flames danced higher, licking the bag wall, turning bright white and then fierce yellow as the temperature climbed past 1200°C. 

Throughout the long hours we carefully controlled the reduction atmosphere — closing the dampers and introducing more wood to starve the fire of oxygen, forcing the flames to pull carbon from the wood and create that rich, smoky environment where the ash glaze truly comes alive. The kiln shifted between oxidation and heavy reduction, and through the peepholes we could see flashes of green and blue as the glaze began to melt and flow over the pieces in unpredictable, beautiful ways. 

After 60 intense hours, the temperature had climbed to about 1280°C. We gave the kiln one final stoke, sealed the ports, and let it begin its slow, natural cooling. The fire is now resting, and the work inside is quietly transforming under layers of ash and the magic of reduction. 

This is always the hardest and most beautiful part — the waiting. 

In a few days we’ll open the door and see what the flames have given us. Until then, the kiln holds its secrets. 

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