Profile

At the age of 10 I was introduced to pottery through a semi haphazard art program at school. I remember loving it, staying after school especially to learn more, to do more.

When I went to university I went to study Economics. This turned into studying Philosophy, which after two years was driving me around the bend, and only then did I really pick up pottery again. I dropped out of school and did pottery for a year - then I went back and finished my degree. On that year off I had a great time, potting and selling at markets and through shops around the UK, carrying my pieces with me everywhere.

There is something about the smells, the feel, the texture of clay which has always grabbed me. I find a peace in myself when I am immersed in the world of potting that I suppose is my way of letting something out, of letting my soul sing. My pieces are all an expression of somewhere I am at, whether a protest or humour or a something one cannot describe. They have always been an outlet for what I didn't know how to say.

After a few years of commercial potting as it were, I realised that I had begun to almost mass produce - that my pieces were not from me anymore. At 24 I packed up what I had, including the real prospect of owning a pottery, and decided to move on. It was only 10 years later, with a seven month old baby that I found myself needing to pot again, and so it was, with a wheel in the kitchen that I picked up my old passion.

I make pots my way, with bits of my soul imprinted in each of them. If I were to make them in numbers I would no longer have the time to speak through them and they would each be as empty as each other: they would no longer sing the joys of life or the power of hope.
To me capturing movement, elegance, and peace all depict parts - details of life that I only aim to encapsulate.