As a child, I spent countless hours on the beach near my home in Brooklyn. Like many kids, I enjoyed swimming in the brisk, salty ocean and collecting shells in my plastic bucket. But what I loved most about the beach was building sand castles—a joyful exercise in creativity that I soon learned was limited only by the breadth of my imagination, and one that seemed to draw inspiration from the roaring surf itself.
Today my hands are still at work—shaping, molding, giving rise to form—only now my medium is clay. And each time I sit at my wheel, I get the same rush of excitement that I felt when I first embarked on this journey thirty years ago.
Working with clay is a process that invites endless possibilities. But even more thrilling to me than the beautiful, tactile act itself is the humbling knowledge that I am part of an age-old tradition of making usable wares from our very earth, aided only by the sacred elements of water and fire. It is an art form that connects us to our planet in the most intimate of ways.
When I make my work, my mind always turns to you, the end user, and how each piece will feel when you hold it, look at it, drink from it, and put food in it. That, I’ve discovered, is the deepest satisfaction of all—knowing that the pieces I make will become a personal (and perhaps even cherished) part of the daily lives of people everywhere, most of whom I will never even know.
My customers often tell me that they feel warmth and satisfaction when they use my work. Some have even confessed that they’ve grown unusually attached to their "favorite mug" or "special bowl." That connection—that precious voyage from my hands to yours—is and always will be my greatest reward. It would be my honor and pleasure to make something that will be loved and treasured by you.