Dunedin resident Mindy Solomon has been collecting ceramics for decades. It started when she and husband Michael bought a raku sake jar on their honeymoon 23 years ago, which led to small purchases from artists in Cleveland, where they lived then. But those earlier acquisitions (though still treasured, in the case of the sake jar) are small potatoes compared to the edgy, contemporary pieces she amasses now.

The habit gripped her after the Dunedin Fine Arts Center spotlighted cutting-edge ceramics — figurative, rather than functional — in a show three years ago. Solomon, who teaches art at the Pinellas County Jewish Day School, purchased four sculptures from the exhibit and came away with a newfound mission: to collect and promote contemporary artists who toil in the age-old medium of clay.

Now she takes a turn as curator with an exhibition at Florida Craftsmen Gallery that's as notable for providing a glimpse into the diverse world of contemporary ceramic sculpture as it is for announcing the arrival of a champion of the medium onto the local scene. Next, Solomon culls works from the permanent collection of the Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts in Gatlinburg, Tenn., for an exhibit at DFAC (Apr. 17-May 24). Further down the road lies the possibility of opening a gallery in Dunedin.

"A lot of people say the Tampa Bay area is not progressive or does not appreciate art," Solomon says. "My philosophy is that this area is wide open for opportunity and very receptive."

The ingenuity of the Florida Craftsmen exhibit, Florida Fire: The UF Ceramic Faculty Experience, is that it doesn't look far — and doesn't need to — for formidable talent. Conceived by Florida Craftsmen executive director Maria Emilia and Solomon, the show spotlights teachers, staff and an alumnus of the University of Florida's highly regarded ceramics department. A concurrent exhibit features Sean Erwin, a recent graduate of the University of South Florida's MFA program, whose slightly raunchy yet painstakingly executed work in porcelain bodes great things for the emerging artist.

Of the UF players, Matt Shaffer commands the most attention with his life-sized anti-hero, "Flounder", who sports an ironically geeky superhero getup, complete with red briefs and purple tights, and a green puppet on one hand. "Flounder", at whom viewers may peer quizzically — and frequently did during my visit — through the gallery's large, plate-glass window, seems to invite reactions that diverge along generational lines: kids gravitate to the sculpture instantly, eyes alight, while grown-ups just don't seem to know what to make of this alarmingly awkward character.

(Without projecting too much of a Gen-X mentality, I hope, I'm inclined to see "Flounder" as an emblem of a generation that's grown up idolizing the flawed heroes of comic books.)

Ray Gonzalez's "Collectibles," a series of similarly shaped bulbs with protruding nubs and holes, tip-toe the line between playfully biomorphic and subtly erotic. Typically presented in pairs, the small ceramic sculptures invite viewers to connect them, inserting nub into hole — multiple nubs into multiple holes — and recombining until the urge to play has been satisfied. Adorned with LEDs, crystals or glossy glazes, the shapes evoke candy, toys and, of course, sex toys.

Anna Calluori-Holcombe's porcelain pieces, small bottle or flask forms sometimes set against a plate, dazzle with graphic decals of plant imagery, butterflies or pattern motifs applied to their flawless white surfaces. Nan Smith's earthenware figures are stunning in their beauty even if their psychological depths seem somewhat attenuated by the group exhibition context. Linda Arbuckle's hand-painted bowls are an elegantly simple thing done well.

Erwin, in his separate alcove, offers a send-up of male insecurity with his "banana hammock" series, a pair of ceramic bananas cradled lovingly in swings followed by a third sculpture of the phallic fruit in mid-splat. Suburbia and its discontents also come up for brief discussion in the form of three stiflingly identical houses mounted on pedestals. But it's The Gardner — a hilariously irreverent statuette of muscled, mustachioed man wearing a fleur-de-lis patterned singlet (gold luster on porcelain) and armed with a weed-whacker — that steals the show.

For local collectors, or would-be collectors, Florida Fire offers access to a range of ceramic art that extends beyond the realm of what's routinely on view in the Bay area. Solomon, the curator, has already done her part by purchasing one of the pieces featured in the show for her growing collection.

"Everyone has a position on how someone should collect: you should collect in depth, you should collect 'blue chip,'" she says. "I like to collect what speaks to me."