I was born and raised under the big sky and on the vast prairie of eastern South Dakota. My study and life in clay began with traditional training upon the coast of rural Japan and continued in the woodlands of Minnesota. These landscapes were teachers, as well as the masters who lived there. Generations of time and attention refined a dynamic system by which to relate to clay. Upon the shoulders of giants, I learned the old ways of working.

A clay object exists both as a symbol of humanity’s subtle dance with the elements and as a real physical presence in the intimacy of our daily lives. Each object is a crystallization of hundreds of years of accumulated attention conveyed through one pair of human hands. I built a scaffolding of intuition by countlessly repeating traditional forms at the kickwheel. Through this intiution, I began to understand humanity’s affinity for clay objects, both for use in ceremony and everyday life. 

After years of listening to the quiet whoosh of fingertips dragging upon wet clay, a bone deep familiarity to the movement of the material and to the fire opens a space for authenticity. 

In a world that bubbles with ever more noise and distraction, I enjoy silence. From here, I seek to create work that is honest and free.