Precariously perched in the firebox of the anagama kiln, when the shelf collapsed it fell into the coal pile and rolled toward the door, looking for me. We stoked more wood on top of it, because we had to finish the firing. When we opened up the kiln, it was right there under a pile of ashes. I put it through the glaze kiln to bring out the best in it, and it worked, a lovely subtle finish. Thirteen inches on every side; it looked really big in wet clay but things shrink because physics.