Record fill-ups for all your cars and monitor your car’s efficiency.
Need to track business mileage? Just start auto trip and we will track all your trips in the background whenever you are on the move.
Don’t lose sight of your maintenance and services. Log your services and we will remind you when its due.
Know your vehicle's running costs and plan for your expenses.
Sign into the cloud and get easy access to all your data from anywhere and any device.
Run your reports or schedule them weekly or monthly to know more about your fill-ups , mileage and expenses.
However, for collectors, digital archaeologists, and enthusiasts of lost media, the search term “female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive” points to a very specific, niche artifact from the mid-2010s underground art scene. This article serves as the definitive guide to that artifact—its origin, its meaning, and why it has become a holy grail for fans of conceptual ceramics and feminist art. In the sprawling digital bazaars of Etsy, the forgotten forums of LiveJournal, and the deep catalogs of early Instagram, certain keywords function like incantations. For the past eight years, the string “female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive” has been one such spell. Whispered in collector discords and typed with trembling fingers into Google’s search bar, it promises a glimpse of a piece that many believe never truly existed—or, at least, was destroyed shortly after its creation.
If you ever find it, do not press the button. Or do. But be prepared for what sweats out. Do you have information about the “Female War” piece or the artist I Am Pottery? Art historians and lost media archivists encourage you to reach out via encrypted email. The war is not over. female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive
This is the story of the most elusive ceramic release of the mid-2010s. To understand the “Female War” piece, one must first understand the cultural moment that birthed it. Between 2013 and 2015, the art world saw a resurgence of narrative pottery —a movement away from purely decorative vases toward ceramic pieces that told stories, often uncomfortable or confrontational ones. For the past eight years, the string “female
I Am Pottery herself (or himself—the gender remains unconfirmed, though the work heavily implies a female perspective) described it in a since-deleted Instagram comment: “It’s a jar that holds nothing but the sound of your own finger pressing it. That’s the war. You are both the soldier and the battlefield.” On January 1, 2015, at 12:00 AM EST, a single listing appeared on a password-protected page of the I Am Pottery website. The price: $2,015.00 (coinciding with the year). The listing title was precisely: “female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive.” When asked why
According to web archives (via the Wayback Machine, though the checkout page is partially corrupted), the description read: “This is the first shot. Before the volley, before the retreat. Only one. She is not for sale to the gentle. She will arrive broken if you do not deserve her. Payment in full. No refunds. The war is exclusive because only you will bleed for it.” The piece sold in .
The buyer’s identity remains unknown. Their username on the platform was “@red_ash_hand.” They left no review. They posted no photos. The piece vanished from the public record. For two years, nothing. Then, in early 2017, a Reddit user on r/CeramicCollectors claimed to have seen the “Female War 01” at a private exhibition in a loft in Bushwick, Brooklyn. According to the user (handle: u/mud_and_nails), the piece was displayed inside a glass box filled with desiccant packs—unusual for pottery, which generally requires no such protection. When asked why, the anonymous owner reportedly said: “She sweats. When you press the button, moisture comes out of the cracks. I have to keep her dry.”
Leading this charge was a pseudonymous artist known only as Active primarily on Tumblr and a now-defunct platform called ArtStack, I Am Pottery was notorious for limited “drops” of hyper-personal, politically charged clay works. Each drop consisted of no more than 10 pieces, released on the first of a month with a cryptic manifesto.
However, for collectors, digital archaeologists, and enthusiasts of lost media, the search term “female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive” points to a very specific, niche artifact from the mid-2010s underground art scene. This article serves as the definitive guide to that artifact—its origin, its meaning, and why it has become a holy grail for fans of conceptual ceramics and feminist art. In the sprawling digital bazaars of Etsy, the forgotten forums of LiveJournal, and the deep catalogs of early Instagram, certain keywords function like incantations. For the past eight years, the string “female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive” has been one such spell. Whispered in collector discords and typed with trembling fingers into Google’s search bar, it promises a glimpse of a piece that many believe never truly existed—or, at least, was destroyed shortly after its creation.
If you ever find it, do not press the button. Or do. But be prepared for what sweats out. Do you have information about the “Female War” piece or the artist I Am Pottery? Art historians and lost media archivists encourage you to reach out via encrypted email. The war is not over.
This is the story of the most elusive ceramic release of the mid-2010s. To understand the “Female War” piece, one must first understand the cultural moment that birthed it. Between 2013 and 2015, the art world saw a resurgence of narrative pottery —a movement away from purely decorative vases toward ceramic pieces that told stories, often uncomfortable or confrontational ones.
I Am Pottery herself (or himself—the gender remains unconfirmed, though the work heavily implies a female perspective) described it in a since-deleted Instagram comment: “It’s a jar that holds nothing but the sound of your own finger pressing it. That’s the war. You are both the soldier and the battlefield.” On January 1, 2015, at 12:00 AM EST, a single listing appeared on a password-protected page of the I Am Pottery website. The price: $2,015.00 (coinciding with the year). The listing title was precisely: “female war i am pottery 01 2015 exclusive.”
According to web archives (via the Wayback Machine, though the checkout page is partially corrupted), the description read: “This is the first shot. Before the volley, before the retreat. Only one. She is not for sale to the gentle. She will arrive broken if you do not deserve her. Payment in full. No refunds. The war is exclusive because only you will bleed for it.” The piece sold in .
The buyer’s identity remains unknown. Their username on the platform was “@red_ash_hand.” They left no review. They posted no photos. The piece vanished from the public record. For two years, nothing. Then, in early 2017, a Reddit user on r/CeramicCollectors claimed to have seen the “Female War 01” at a private exhibition in a loft in Bushwick, Brooklyn. According to the user (handle: u/mud_and_nails), the piece was displayed inside a glass box filled with desiccant packs—unusual for pottery, which generally requires no such protection. When asked why, the anonymous owner reportedly said: “She sweats. When you press the button, moisture comes out of the cracks. I have to keep her dry.”
Leading this charge was a pseudonymous artist known only as Active primarily on Tumblr and a now-defunct platform called ArtStack, I Am Pottery was notorious for limited “drops” of hyper-personal, politically charged clay works. Each drop consisted of no more than 10 pieces, released on the first of a month with a cryptic manifesto.
Simply Fleet is a simple and affordable software to help you track, monitor and analyse your fleet’s operations.