I have been in love with clay for over a decade now. I savor its scent and color under my fingernails the same way I did as a novice potter. Since then, I have learned to appreciate subtle glaze textures and the curves of a freshly thrown pot as well.
My love of clay goes beyond its tactile and aesthetic properties, however. I honor the lengthy history of humans using fired earth and I value the positive health benefits of using pottery. I am mindful of both the cultural value of handmade things and how the decision to support craft is ultimately much more than an economic decision, but a political one. In short, I love both the process of making pots and the deep significance of fired clay in our lives.
As a Peace Corps Volunteer in the southern African country of Lesotho, I organized informal ceramics workshops with local dibopi, or potters. Sitting in small round mud-brick houses, I shared stamping and pattern-making techniques while learning how to dig clay at the riverbed. More importantly, I learned the value of patience and resourcefulness—both skills that serve me well in and out of the studio. While living in Ecuador, I worked with a traditional alfarero and gained an immense appreciation for craft cooperatives and for the sharing of the ceramics craft between generations. And from my knowledge gained as a student and practitioner of public health, I have learned to appreciate the way clay maintains the health of our bodies and the environment by filtering water and serving as durable kitchenware in a disposable world.
I have brought these experiences and skills learned abroad into my current studio practice and I try to integrate them into my work. The stoneware ceramic pots that I produce are functional and simple. I hope that people incorporate them into the rhythms of their lives. I hope that by creating utilitarian objects, I am contributing to a more just economy and building an appreciation of both clay and all things handmade.
artist statement
artist statement
I have been in love with clay for over a decade now. I savor its scent and color under my fingernails the same way I did as a novice potter. Since then, I have learned to appreciate subtle glaze textures and the curves of a freshly thrown pot as well.
My love of clay goes beyond its tactile and aesthetic properties, however. I honor the lengthy history of humans using fired earth and I value the positive health benefits of using pottery. I am mindful of both the cultural value of handmade things and how the decision to support craft is ultimately much more than an economic decision, but a political one. In short, I love both the process of making pots and the deep significance of fired clay in our lives.
As a Peace Corps Volunteer in the southern African country of Lesotho, I organized informal ceramics workshops with local dibopi, or potters. Sitting in small round mud-brick houses, I shared stamping and pattern-making techniques while learning how to dig clay at the riverbed. More importantly, I learned the value of patience and resourcefulness—both skills that serve me well in and out of the studio. While living in Ecuador, I worked with a traditional alfarero and gained an immense appreciation for craft cooperatives and for the sharing of the ceramics craft between generations. And from my knowledge gained as a student and practitioner of public health, I have learned to appreciate the way clay maintains the health of our bodies and the environment by filtering water and serving as durable kitchenware in a disposable world.
I have brought these experiences and skills learned abroad into my current studio practice and I try to integrate them into my work. The stoneware ceramic pots that I produce are functional and simple. I hope that people incorporate them into the rhythms of their lives. I hope that by creating utilitarian objects, I am contributing to a more just economy and building an appreciation of both clay and all things handmade.