The work is a product of the relationship of my hands forming the wet clay and of its form and function. Echoing the the environment of Missouri: hills, rivers, trees, ploughed fields, open skies, and starry nights, these relationships take root in the vessel through the marks of process. Evidenced through the softness of the clay in the slow, rhythmic movement captured in the walls of the vessel. The angular ridges carved by layman’s tools are reminiscent of a plow scraping across the soft earth—evidence of a cultivated force. The openness of these forms allows for the eye to wander up and above the work. Much like the horizon is the transition between heaven and earth, reminding of these connections where countless hours are spent looking up at a night sky; dreaming, singing and praying any way that we know how.
The work consists of stoneware clay that has been fired at high temperatures in soda and wood atmospheric kilns. This surface treatment exhibits the transition of flame and ash across the vessel. Putting the kiln in heavy reduction at the end of the firing encourages the dark greys and blacks that contrasts the subtleties of the flashing slips and glazes. The drama of these surfaces harken back to this relationship with nature and the seasons. From the light and dark blues that capture a quiet pool or a deep sky, to the dark browns and soft reds of soil and clay, to the ominous greys of a thunderstorm rolling across fields of soybean and corn. To the whites of winter and to the green of spring that is the true mark of this land. Each of these shifts of transition is recorded on the pot as it holds this metaphor of our place, in time and space.