Statement

My ceramics work has been largely informed by the want to express freely. I draw a lot of inspiration from my childhood. My grandad loved halloween and decorated copiously every year.

Several years ago during an open house, a young boy and his mom came into my studio. The young boy, about 8 or 9, was magnetized to the horrifying creatures on my table. The display was overflowing with tentacles, teeth, severed fingers, skulls and ghouls. His eyes wide in amazement, his mother stared in horror as he made a b-line straight for my table.

He was deeply fascinated by a particular piece I had made with a gaping mouth and more teeth than any human naturally has. He begged and begged his mom for the money to buy it. She didn’t budge in her stoic answer of “absolutely not”. I asked if I could give him a couple of stickers and she OK’d it.

The next day, I got an email from them asking if the piece was still available. Apparently he had not stopped talking about it and finally got his parent’s approval.

I wound up giving him the piece, and stayed in touch with the family for a while. The young boy was inspired to take pottery classes (and of course started with a bunch of skeleton monsters). The last time we spoke, he was beginning to learn the wheel.

That experience really stayed with me over the years and I’ve given lots of thought about why it resonated so much.

I think that for me, being 8 was a time when things felt like they had significance without having to have a deeper meaning.

A skeleton was cool just because skeletons are cool.

Monsters fight each other because thats just what monsters do.

Big sticks are inherently cool.

You get to play and explore without anyone making you justify your thoughts or imagination. It’s a very freeing mindset.

I want my work to appeal to the “8 year old boy” sensibility in all of us. I want people to connect to my work with a sense of grotesque playfulness.

My work lives in a world of giant melting pizza slices, airborne monster trucks, kaleidoscopic lego robots, and cigar boxes filled with cicada shells and fossils. It’s a place where staying up past your bedtime to watch scary movies while you eat Doritos makes you feel like an outlaw on the lamb.

Maybe it means something more. Maybe not.

Maybe you can’t look away… maybe you’re laughing out loud… maybe you’re horrified or you’re grossed out and you just want throw a sheet over it. That’s all perfect for me.