My earliest memories of working with clay date back to primary school, where art classes felt like portals into other realms—a reprieve from the rigidity of the everyday. I remember learning to coil build, helping in the studio, and the quiet surprise of receiving third prize for a clay ballerina in the school art show.

Growing up alongside the beaches of the Mornington Peninsula in Victoria, I developed an enduring affinity with the natural world. My memories are embedded with shifting patterns of sky, land, and sea—how wind and water disturb sand to form rippled undulations across dunes, the ocean’s surface, and its seabed. These impressions continue to echo through my work in clay.

Travelling through Asia in my late teens was a period of sensory immersion. I encountered cultures rich in history, where daily life unfolded through layered rituals of colour, texture, and form. From the carved houses and effigies of Tana Toraja in South Sulawesi, to the rice terraces of Banaue in the Philippines, I was drawn to the way pattern, material, and meaning intertwined across art, architecture, textiles, food, and functional objects.

During this time, I worked primarily in two dimensions—oil, acrylic, and watercolour—before discovering Sumi-e (Japanese monochrome ink painting). Studying with French artist André Sollier, I was drawn to its meditative, restrained language. This centuries-old Zen practice resonated deeply, aligning with my growing interest in Eastern philosophy and contemplative process.

Over the past 25 years, my connection to making has been continually nurtured through my relationship with the sculptor Peter Blizzard, and the generous support of Liz Blizzard and their family. Workshops in bronze sculpture with Paul Blizzard rekindled my desire to return to clay. When the opportunity arose to study with ceramic artist and teacher Peter Pilven, it felt like a homecoming.

I went on to complete a Graduate Diploma of Ceramics at Federation University, where I began to more fully understand clay as both material and language—an ancient, enduring medium that has accompanied human expression for tens of thousands of years.

When my hands are in clay, I am transported to a place that feels both familiar and quietly provocative. I often liken it to walking barefoot on early morning grass—the cool, damp ground heightening awareness and drawing attention to subtle energies. In this space, I am able to challenge preconceptions, notice subconscious patterns, and respond intuitively to the material, its movement, and its inherent qualities.

I am influenced by a Buddhist understanding that ideas of perfection and imperfection are constructs that can distance us from the natural state of things. This perspective allows me to respond more freely to the patterns and impressions—conscious and unconscious—that shape both human experience and the natural world.

Each piece is made with patience and care. While functional, my work invites touch and use, reflecting a quiet human desire for connection—with one another and with the environment.

Testimonial

”Organic, sand, dunes, playful. Ancient landscapes. Strong, bold and elegant forms. Sophisticated design.” - Angela Robinson (1969-2021) artist, teacher, friend.