My earliest memories are in my dad’s shop. The dust. The sound of wheel. The roar of the kilns. I remember my dad letting me stay up late sometimes and wait for the firings to reach the right temperature. We would drink cokes and watch the kiln glow with overwhelming heat. It was the perfect mix of rebellion and adventure.
Pottery is a craft I began when I was 16, but it’s much more than the mug or vase you enjoy in your home. It’s the memories of throwing a football with my dad in the parking lot. It’s skipping church to go to the shop and watch the NFL. It’s eating fried apple pies. It’s enjoying my dad through his passion.
It’s my honor to share my lifetime of memories with you and your family. I hope you enjoy my work as much as I enjoyed creating it.
Not just a potter, also a: