Crafting an object that can potentially exist beyond my own intention allows me to be a part of someone’s daily ritual or individual escape. The intimacy of a cup or bowl becomes something the user can abide by and confide in. In turn, the discipline of making these objects of integrity becomes a safe haven of my very own.
Observations from specific past experiences are formative to the process. For example, while investing the time to refine the planes of every pot, I recall taking care to counter-sink each finishing nail into a bookshelf built with my father. The uninterrupted contour of my forms are linked to the memory of standing on top of a dome in Florence and realizing how long it has stood the test of time and will continue to do so well past my lifetime. Handling a thoughtfully made mug on a daily basis reminds me of using a quality built tool. Both cultivate trust between the user and the maker.
Pots return from the kiln with the confidence and sincerity of a wind worn landscape. The chance reactions produced in an atmospheric kiln help to reestablish the delicate balance between the order inherent in creating and the intrinsic chaos of firing. The varying proportion of the two helps distinguish one pot from another. These differences facilitate an enriched experience and sustain a cherished relationship between the person and the pot.
