Along with being an intentional practice, stillness can also be a form of encounter. A moment of childlike wonder where the need to know and understand is silenced, and beauty without reason is made experientially tangible.

The words “still” and “quiet” have never been used to describe my personality, but the practice of stillness is central to my daily life of faith and artistic practice. I often think of “stillness” as an active form of rest; a dwelling as opposed to a doing. A respite of attentiveness and an attunement of the spirit to exist presently in a quiet mindfulness. It’s in a moment of stillness where our racing minds are put to rest and space is made for clarity and depth to occur. In my personal life, stillness as a practice occurs in many forms. From quick moments of prayer in my car, to taking a breath before I begin shaping a piece, I am constantly asking The Lord to center my chaotic mind and body and I often find this at the wheel. Along with being an intentional practice, stillness can also be a form of encounter. A moment of childlike wonder where the need to know and understand is silenced, and beauty without reason is made experientially tangible. My work visually exemplifies the personal invocation of stillness in the process of making, and is an invitation to stillness for others in the process of viewing. 

While I consider myself a more process-oriented artist, the visual properties of my work incite a calm that creates space for others to just “be.” My forms are comforting in their simplicity. They stand individually with a functional approachability that is derived from concepts of contentment within the familiar forms; while distinct qualities such as glaze, style, and a soft contour create a unified aesthetic within my larger body of work. As I approach the wheel I rarely begin a piece with a strict goal, but often have a purpose-driven idea of what I want each piece to become. There is an authenticity that is maintained in listening and adapting to the properties of the individual clay body that consistently humbles me in my own chaos, and emphasizes the goodness and grace of God as a loving creator.