The Earth created all of us.
Clay is the Earth.
That which gives it colour is the Earth.
The hands that shape it are of the Earth.
Ceramics is chemistry and fire: it can withstand the greatest extremes.
The clay is soft and yielding,
Fluid,
Bright,
Smooth.
It can be transformed, becoming sharp,
Dark,
Solid,
Hard and unyielding,
Cold,
Brittle.
It is a study in contradictions.
It is a study in harmony.
It is an inorganic material: lifeless, but for the life imbued in it by artists.
There is an interface between humans and Earth that can be uniquely articulated in ceramics. How can ceramic reflect those who use it? Humans have created the vessel form, but what exactly defines a vessel? Can the practical elements be denied, while the vessel still retains its identity as such?
I came to ceramics quite by accident, but the best experiences in life are always precipitated thusly. Its gifts are two-fold. While I can lose my emotional self in its various aesthetic qualities, my analytical self is nourished by the science that informs my artistic decisions. The history of ceramics spans tens of thousands of
years, leaving a rich deposit of research material in its wake.
Thus, the whole me is replenished through the simple act of working with this ages old medium. When I work, I can revel in the knowledge that I’m doing something that pre-dates agriculture, and yet is an integral part of space craft.
