STATEMENT
About Pots
This body of work derives from my personal experiences of growing up in South Texas where snakes, thorns, and wildflowers alike are a part of daily life. Parts of these plants and animals, such as the spikes on a mosquito leg, patterns of a coral snake and the form of a dead armadillo, are reinterpreted into the forms and surfaces of my functional pottery. Pinching and altering a combination of wheel thrown and hand built forms brings a softness to the harsh ecology that influences my work. By introducing these spikes and rather unpleasant things to the dinner table, a hopefully safe space to exchange ideas, the pots become a metaphor for learning to be vulnerable and find playfulness in an often tough world.
About Real Big Hills
It feels like mountains have secrets and the only way to discover them is to go with your own body. As you follow the zigzagging topographic lines you fall into its folds, the steep snowmelt creeks are full of foliage, butterflies and mosquitoes, then you go around a turn and are greeted with huge sweeping vistas of the valley below and the highest peaks far above. They are miles away, yet it seems like you could almost touch them. By exploring with your own two feet (and sometimes with the help of other gear; bikes, skis, etc.), you learn the form and the shape of the hills. In turn, you also learn your body. How it feels, works, operates. Or doesn’t when you need it to. Choosing to engage in what often ends up being a bit of type2 fun, you learn what you need to fuel yourself and endure, both mentally and physically. It seems to me that a life exploring this marvelous planet, testing your limits, and how you fit in would be a life very well lived. I only hope that I can be a helpful part of protecting, conserving and sharing it.