I mine historic and contemporary forms in clay, personal and cultural iconography, and combine them with original or found texts and personal images on the surfaces of the ceramic works. I make my own glazes and decals. 

 

I work in clay because it resists perfection. It cracks, collapses, slumps under pressure—and then I keep going. My practice embraces failure in form, as method and collaborator. Each piece begins with a question: What am I supposed to be, and what happens if I refuse?

 

As a woman in the arts, I find the systems built around “support” often feel like containment. Institutions love the narrative of the “female ceramicist”—as long as she’s quiet, graceful, and palatable. I am not interested in being molded into that. My work is a confrontation with those expectations. I carve, pierce, and press into the clay, to decorate and disrupt.

 

I draw on the long, global history of women and clay—not to romanticize it, but to reclaim its subversive potential. Clay has always been a medium of the domestic and the sacred, the disposable and the durable. It holds contradiction. So do I.