I first sat down at a potter’s wheel in Somerville, Massachusetts when I was 11. Eight years later I left Boston to study art in Chicago, where I began to ask myself a lot of questions: what do I value most in this life, what things are worth creating, what will I leave behind?
In pursuit of answers, I sunk my teeth into every medium I could, from oil paints to yarn to precious metals. Ultimately though, it was a return to clay and the familiar rhythms of the potter’s wheel that felt like home. Ceramics became my language for fleshing out the heady questions I so stubbornly insisted on asking myself. It grounded me, and brought me calm.
The more intimate my experience with clay became, the more I seemed to learned about myself, including a few truths that continue to inform my artwork today:
my heart craves stillness, wide open spaces, some tangible sense of infinity I can place my hands on.
art making is meditation.
the urge to create is noble and important and always worthy of being explored without hesitation (even in the absence of answers).
I make my work with a reverence for detail and often a quiet nod to functionality. This is my way of inviting others to draw in a little bit closer, and engage with the pieces I create. My process is private, meditative and precious, but I am still an object maker. I want to open up the intimate relationships I forge between myself and these objects, and invite others to step into that sacred space. I want to make things that ring profoundly true to me, while also speaking to the innate place in all of us that is touched by honesty and beauty.
I build the home my heart craves out of beautiful oddities.
I practice alchemy, coaxing the phantoms of my imagination into existence with gold.
I seek a shared experience that, although engaged by material things, transcends the physical to touch something ineffable, expansive and True.
I live and create in Cambridge, Massachusetts.