Disguised as paintings, my current work moves through the world trying to fit in while also being ceramics, with plenty of flaws and rough bits. The material starts out as a damp ball of clay. After being rolled flat there are only a few minutes to cut the drawing into the slab before it is too dry. Each piece is bisqued, painted, and then fired to cone 6 when the exact color becomes known. The final work is excavated from the mortar used to cobble the pieces together, becoming a picture, defying the demand to be useful and familiar.

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Sitting with all this uncertainty, while knowing what I’ve learned so far, is what makes working interesting. I know and I don’t know. I have some experience, but not all that much control. The process absorbs feelings and thoughts about our tenuous state, how small we are and how limited our time is here. What do we notice? What matters? How are we all connected?

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As my work presents itself as flat pictures, it struggles to get there, digging through a lifetime of experiences, relationships, memories. Often it’s the things I’ve forgotten which have the most power in this universe.

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