“Pottery was born into me,” Joel Queen says, and rightly so, with eight generations of Native American “coil-built” traditional pottery on his family tree. In a roadside studio near Cherokee, Queen uses only his fingers and a small amount of water — no potter’s wheel — to create thin-walled, patterned pieces, the same way his ancestors did, “hand-building” blue clay and engraving or stamping it with textured paddles he’s carved himself. Smooth quartz stones and even Mason jar lids are his polishing tools, and when it’s time to fire the pot, it’s done outside in a “hot, fast fire” of hemlock wood. He recently sold the largest pot he — or any Cherokee — has ever made. The studio door frame had to come off to fire it.
Feature image, above: In addition to his own gallery in Whittier, Queen’s work has been displayed at the Smithsonian Institution, the British Museum, and Monticello.
In North Carolina, spring brings the scent of fresh-cut grass and memories of helping Dad mow the lawn.
Nostalgic burger joints are like time machines, delivering something extra special that keeps us coming back.
This tiny city block in downtown Greensboro once had a gigantic reputation. Not so much for its charbroiled beef patties — though they, too, were plentiful — but for its colorful characters and their wild shenanigans.
In the 1950s, as Americans hit freshly paved roads in shiny new cars during the postwar boom, a new kind of restaurant took shape: the drive-in. From those first thin patties to the elaborate gourmet hamburgers of today, North Carolina has spent the past 80 years making burger history.
