Family is where love first takes its shape. Whatever else changes around us — the country, the language, the walls we call home — it is the thing we carry with us.
I built these two forms to stand together. They lean into one another, each holding its own weight and still needing the other. Outside, a dark slip has been worked over the clay until the surface is rough and weathered, marked by everything it has passed through. Inside, the white stoneware is left smooth and pale, kept safe.
That is how love within a family feels to me: worn on the outside, tender within, and always standing close.