In this age of mass production, there’s always something special about bringing an object into your home that was lovingly crafted by a local artist—even something as seemingly diminutive as a cereal bowl. It’s even better if that purchase helps put money into the hands of folks solving real-world issues. Houstonians will have the opportunity to do just that at the 18th iteration of Empty Bowls Houston, a beloved grassroots fundraiser for the Houston Food Bank taking place on Saturday, May 11, from 10am to 3pm at the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft.

At the fundraiser—a collaboration between the food bank and local ceramicists, woodturners, and glass artists—attendees will have the opportunity to shop a collection of over 1,500 hand-crafted and one-of-a-kind bowls, most priced at $25 each. All proceeds from the family-friendly event, which will also feature live music, food, and art demonstrations, will help fight food insecurity in the region by funding the Houston Food Bank, which provides access to 120 million meals a year in the 18 counties in Southeast Texas it services.

To date, Empty Bowls Houston has raised more than $1 million for the food bank, equating to around 3.16 million meals.

“We have a pretty big reach, and a lot of people have needed our assistance over the past couple of years,” says Sean Crowl, a corporate and community relations officer for the Houston Food Bank. “I work on a lot of events at the food bank, and this is one of my favorites. It’s inside and outside, there’s great food, music, and some really cool artists. It’s a fun, family-friendly event.”

While Empty Bowls provides a valuable service to the community by raising money for meals for the food insecure, it couldn’t do so without the efforts of the hundreds of artists who donate their work every year.

Houston ceramicist Lotus Bermudez, who along with her husband owns Third Coast Clay, an artist-run community clay studio in Houston, has participated in Empty Bowls since the very beginning. Houston’s ceramic artist community is spread out, and Bermudez says that, in addition to being a vital way to raise funds for the Houston Food Bank, the event helps connect local craftspeople to each other.

“Not only am I an artist, I’m a really big advocate for the ceramic arts in Houston. [Empty Bowls] is a way to celebrate the ceramic arts and involve other craft artists around town,” Bermudez says, noting that the event is one of the largest annual gatherings of ceramicists in Houston.

Like many regular participants, Bermudez likes to switch up the themes of her bowls each year. This year, they’re all based on her childhood memories of Galveston, as well as recent memories of bringing her children there as an adult.

“[My pieces this year] look like sand, and they have little ceramic seashells on them that were molds taken from when my kids were toddlers and collected seashells,” she says. “They also have crushed and melted glass inside that mimics the ocean’s water.”

A bit more artistic than the bowls most Houstonians are used to eating their cereal from (at least ones who weren’t raised by artists), we imagine they would provide the perfect vessel for a heaping bowl of Marshmallow Mateys, our favorite nautically themed breakfast cereal.

Ceramicist Michelle Heinesen, who has lived in Houston for the past 12 years, is another longtime participant in the fundraiser. Like Bermudez, her pieces and style are also heavily influenced by her memories. Heinesen, who was raised in Singapore by a Faroese father and a Singaporean mother, says that growing up as a biracial person in Singapore made her feel like she didn’t belong 100 percent of the time—almost like she was an alien, she says.

“In my artistic practice, I’m trying to carve out a place for myself and trying to translate those ideas,” she says. “I’m heavily influenced by my background. Both my parents are islanders, but they came from places that are completely day and night.”

In previous years that Heinesen has participated, she spent a lot of time focusing on the surface texture of her bowls and did a lot of very detailed hand-building. She’s doing things a bit differently this year and is wheel-throwing all her bowls, with extra attention focused on glazing and shape.

And she’s creating quite a lot of them. Heinesen is one of the fundraiser’s “100-bowl artists,” who task themselves with spending the year crafting 100 bowls for the event. This will be Heinesen’s sixth year doing the challenge. She says she’s so committed to the fundraiser because she experienced first-hand the effects of food insecurity after her father passed away unexpectedly while she was a young child.

“With my mom being a single parent, food insecurity was a very real thing for me in my childhood, even living in a place as economically successful as Singapore,” she says.

She participates in Empty Bowls because it’s a cathartic way to put her art to good use.

“I like the whole idea of being able to help the community get fed through my skills,” she says. “I make the bowls, and then I can immediately help someone be fed. It’s quite gratifying for me.”