Li Zhen's studio sits off one of Jingdezhen's busiest tourist streets, past the crowds of young visitors pouring in to buy ceramics, down a small alley where a few dogs are enjoying a lovely afternoon nap. Further in, it opens onto a quieter corner. He shares the space with his partner.

There's something more grounded about him than a lot of makers. Talking with him was like talking to a friend, so we dropped the usual formality. In Jingdezhen, tea is almost always the first courtesy you offer a guest, but noticing his own coffee pot on the table, we couldn't help but ask if we could have coffee instead. He laughed. "You've probably had too much tea these past few days."

He trained in ceramic art and design, with painting as his first love. A chance opportunity took him to Sanbao International Ceramic Art Village as an international artist assistant, where he spent time around visiting ceramicists from abroad. That's where we started to see the roots of a view he's built from years moving between East and West.

We kept his hat-shaped bowl on the table, filled with a handful of grapes and blueberries. The clay foot is left raw and unglazed, rough against the smooth interior. The bowl sits low and steady, opening out like a shallow hat. Many of his pieces carry this same feeling; they do not ask to be looked at. But once held, their weight and texture bring a quiet sense of satisfaction. It’s an invitation to simply enjoy and be present with whatever they hold.