I started making ceramics because I wanted to get out of my head and make something useful. Clay doesn’t rush you—it asks you to slow down, pay attention, and accept that things might wobble a little. I’ve found that somehow that’s the best part.

There’s a quiet kind of joy in turning a lump of clay into something real: a cup that holds morning coffee, a small object that didn’t exist before you shaped it. Not everything comes out perfect, but every piece carries the mark of the moment it was made. Ceramics has been a reminder that making things—messy, imperfect, and honest—is one of the simplest ways to find joy.

The idea to integrate painting motifs from nature came to me recently when thinking about the joy I also feel when I’m in my garden, on a hike or in the forest. I have a deep appreciation for all the healing and beauty that being outdoors gives me.