"Where the Light Gets In"
Wheel-thrown and Hand Altered Grey Stoneware clay:Double Fired- Highfired and then Smoke Fired with raw natural materials
14"x8"
This piece was born from big feelings. Created during the devastating ice storm of spring 2025, the scene and sounds outside my studio echoed like a war zone—trees breaking, branches shattering, the landscape transformed. Inside, working in the semi-darkness with only the hum of a generator for power, I felt compelled to throw something large on the wheel. Big clay, big gestures, big emotion.
I began documenting the process without knowing where the clay would lead. As the form emerged, it revealed itself as a tree—first a tall trunk, then fractured, bulbous, and altered. Like the storm-ravaged landscape outside my home, the piece became a reflection of brokenness and resilience.
This work is an ode to the beauty of imperfection, to the wabi-sabi spirit that lives in both the natural world and the act of creation. It honors the trees—broken yet enduring—that continue to stand as witnesses to loss and renewal
Wheel-thrown and Hand Altered Grey Stoneware clay:Double Fired- Highfired and then Smoke Fired with raw natural materials
14"x8"
This piece was born from big feelings. Created during the devastating ice storm of spring 2025, the scene and sounds outside my studio echoed like a war zone—trees breaking, branches shattering, the landscape transformed. Inside, working in the semi-darkness with only the hum of a generator for power, I felt compelled to throw something large on the wheel. Big clay, big gestures, big emotion.
I began documenting the process without knowing where the clay would lead. As the form emerged, it revealed itself as a tree—first a tall trunk, then fractured, bulbous, and altered. Like the storm-ravaged landscape outside my home, the piece became a reflection of brokenness and resilience.
This work is an ode to the beauty of imperfection, to the wabi-sabi spirit that lives in both the natural world and the act of creation. It honors the trees—broken yet enduring—that continue to stand as witnesses to loss and renewal