About me

For more than two decades, the pottery studio has been the place where I feel most grounded, most curious, and most myself. What began as a weekly class has become a home, a supportive and inspiring community, and a creative practice that continues to surprise me. In the studio, I’m surrounded by people who are drawn to the same practice I love: tactile, messy, and endlessly transformative.

I strive to make wheel-thrown pieces that are playful without being cute, and elegant without feeling precious. I like to alter pots after throwing, or carve into their surfaces, or bring out unexpected patterns with oxides — small decisions that make each piece feel alive. Every stage of the process feeds me differently: the quiet concentration of throwing, the satisfying and meditative rhythm of trimming, the color- and light-driven process of glazing — that all lead to the moment the kiln cools and reveals its alchemical surprises.

Teaching has been another fulfilling step in this journey. My students ask questions that open new doors — questions about how to move and respond to clay, why a glaze behaves the way it does, and how to think about refining pieces to improve their function and aesthetic form. Their curiosity pushes me to articulate the things I’ve learned over the years, and the things I’m still learning.

I hope that when someone holds one of my pieces, they can sense the love I feel in making functional art from earth — and maybe even feel a small connection to the story behind it.

A woman baking bread outdoors, smiling, with her hands covered in dough, surrounded by baking tools and ingredients on a counter.