“Through every country I’ve travelled, there was one object that connected us all, the humble clay pot.”

My hand-built ceramic vessels are strongly influenced by growing up by the sea in Wales, alongside my time living, teaching and travelling through South East Asia. Across each place, there was one object that connected us all: the humble clay pot.

Every vessel I make is unique. Using traditional hand-building methods, I explore the plasticity of clay and the relationship between maker, material and place. Beginning with a simple pinch pot, I coil each vessel slowly over several days, allowing time to reflect before adding the next layer. Once leather-hard, I turn back into the form, hand-carving excess clay using a mirror and turntable to create a balanced, tactile surface.

My recent work deepens this connection to place through a direct response to landscape. Along the South West of England and Wales coastlines, I collect small samples of sand from specific locations, which are wedged into the clay body. Through firing, these materials become fixed within the vessel; preserving place and creating a physical link between the work and its source.

The Cof y Cerrig (Memory of the Stones) collection draws from ancient carved stones along the North Wales coast, including sites connected to early Welsh language and history. These vessels are shaped through the same slow coiling process, using stoneware and raku clay, and respond to the textures, markings and presence of these weathered surfaces.

Across the collection, the vessels begin to embody the elements. Air is captured through naked raku, where smoke leaves soft, ghost-like markings across burnished clay. Fire is present in pit-fired forms, their surfaces marked by flame and ash. Water is explored through larger stoneware vessels, where sand and deep blue matte glazes echo the coastline. Earth emerges through carved and inscribed forms, holding texture, weight and material memory.

Surface and colour are developed through slips and glazes that I mix and test in the studio. Copper remains my primary colourant, producing a flux of blues and greens that reflect the shifting tones of the sea. In response to the ethical impact of copper mining, I have begun experimenting with creating verdigris pigment from reclaimed copper piping, working towards a more sustainable approach to these surfaces.

These vessels are quiet explorations of impermanence and legacy. Smoke, flame and glaze build up in layers across the surface, like memory held in the material. The clay carries traces of landscape, of touch, and of time.