There is, on my worktable, a moment suspended between idea and material. A quiet in-between, where pencil meets paper, and form begins to breathe—first in silence, then in clay. Lately, I’ve been working on a few new pieces that will soon find their way into the shop — sketches turned porcelain promises.
Two mugs, holding about eight ounces each — one in soft rose, the other in gentle celadon blue — are slowly taking shape in my hands. They carry that quiet balance I love, with a fine lip that greets the mouth tenderly. I can already picture them on a bedside table, a sunlit desk, or in that still moment of morning when there’s time for pause.
Beside them, a wine tumbler is emerging — handleless, rounded, shaped to be cradled in the palm. It speaks of summer evenings, of dinners that linger, of wine that breathes while conversations stretch into the dusk.
And just sketched, a carved vase. Not simply etched — but sculpted, with raised relief that seems to have grown beneath the glaze. The surface catches light like bark or petal, its design almost botanical. Even empty, it already tells a story.
These pieces are still in progress, but they’re already whispering. They invite me to slow down, to listen to what the clay wants to say.
Coming soon, in the shop…
