Working from the rooftop, coil by coil while in the garage below my mother spun clay on an electric wheel — this sparked the idea of creating an analog representation of the shared gesture of building upwards.

“Moss mimic stick performs ballet in Ecuador”

Mimicry for survival…. pots left amongst rocks in underbrush in hopes that they might be offered the opportunity to continue aging, undisturbed.

(Public space as shared space, carrying the past and those it has held… using this idea also as an impetus to begin foraging native clays)

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Countless times I’ve felt deeply connected to particular rocks. (Comfort/sleep) Rather than ideate how to form the vessel, I invited it to be molded on a large nearly round rock I’d found along the ocean shore.