ABOUT

MY NATURAL ROOTS IN THE CLAY ARTS

When I was a little girl, I had the good fortune to grow up with a magical green space behind our home. It was full of magic and many moments that made your spidey senses feel deeply tied into the mysteries that lived there. The most magical was the clay mine. I would sit and listen to the water trickle from the hillside and the birds wrestle in the wind. I would dig, with my hands, into the side of the hill with the hope and a passionate will to free some of that fresh earthen clay. into my hands, to form some kind of memory or imprint of the moment so as to hold onto it, forever.

Cups

Bowls

 Spoons