From my perspective, the language of clay is mute and absorbent. It exists as a foundation, a constant and yet invisible presence – as pot, as brick, as toilet and basin, as earth. I respond to its silence and its capacity. It is a holder of time and of the unnoticed, of the underpinnings of consciousness and of daily life.
In my work, I am interested in probing at this unnoticed space, coaxing the temporal and fleeting quality of experience into visible, tactile form.
The objects and installations I make echo familiar objects, but confound their meaning. They are metaphorical containers, pinched to hold passing time, shifting light, the fragile uncertainty of being. Boundaries are intentionally blurred: between interior and exterior space; between pot and sculpture; between object and drawing. It is what happens at these blurred edges that interests me.
In my approach to form and color, I seek a spiritual and emotional language that is both spare and full. Like poetry, this language is non-linear and intuitive – the color of a sudden flock of birds; the shape of an exhale.
Clay as a material speaks of the familiar, the concrete and the immutable, while simultaneously carrying a sense of transition, fragility and porousness. I am constantly interested in engaging the tension between these qualities. Making becomes an act of tactile listening, attending fully to that fragile terrain at the edge of perception. The path to completing each piece is a felt process, responding to the material in my hand and leaning into my own uncertainty. Balance and trust are essential to this process. It is my hope that the work invites the viewer to recognize and rest in that space.