Offering Jars
This series has its roots in a workshop I took learning about Jomon decorating techniques in neolithic Japanese ceramics. I’ve heard many people say that Jomon pieces seem weirdly contemporary, like something experimental from the 60s or 70s instead of thousands of years in the past. As part of practicing the appliqué surface decoration I learned in the workshop, I created a series of jars that try to capture the bits I liked about that ancient-yet-outside-of-time look. I tried to stick with a visual language that would be recognizable anywhere and at any time: circles, lines, knots, fire, seeds, flowers, wings, horns, etc. When it came to finishing the jars, I wanted the pieces to have a feel of being pulled out of an ancient burial site, like something made of patinaed bronze or worn, mossy stone.
Imago DEI
A celebration of beauty in diversity. This jar began as an experimental doodle of a simple design, but a healthy dose of serendipity and current events ended up pulling it in an unexpected direction. What initially began as an exploration in minimalist stylized people (the rings wrapped is coils reminiscent of lollipops) quickly became, frankly, boring. By the time I finished the third one, I started playing with other ways of combining the basic ring-and-coil concept into different shapes, just to add some interest and complexity. By random chance, that day was the nationwide 'Hands Off!' protests against the many crimes of the Trump Administration, and the following day was Palm Sunday. My church was one of the rallying points for the Seattle protest, and during the Procession of Palms, many congregants also waved signs left behind by marchers the day before. One of the signs caught my eye with the phrase 'Imago DEI' scrawled on it, tying the concept of 'made in the image of God' to the the diversity of humankind. I loved the phrase, and was struck by the parallels to what I'd done on a much smaller scale the day before: replacing a uniform, but uninteresting, repeating design with a variety of shapes and sizes to make a more interesting Creation. I got home and began to see new interpretations in the shapes: people of all shapes and sizes, homes with traditional families, couples, and throuples, unhoused people huddled against what shelter they could find. To celebrate all those little images of God, I added a ring of angels' wings around the base to lift them all up. And to celebrate the protesters fighting for that diversity, I topped it off with a quartet of hooked spearheads on the lid.
Glazed stoneware
April 2025
Altar
A celebration of sacrifice. This jar is a celebration of selfless gifts and sacrifices people make—seen and seemingly unseen—every day for the greater good. It’s a representation of a burnt offering being offered and accepted. Tongues of flame reach up towards a temple structure on the lid. Interspersed in the flames are three representations of something Other piercing the firmament to reach for the offering, a promise that the sacrifices are ultimately seen and treasured.
Glazed stoneware
April 2025
Manna in April
A celebration of fleeting beauty and being present for it. Rings of cherry blossoms line the top and bottom of the jar, with snapshots of a lone petal tumbling in the wind around the center. Cherry blossom season is one of my favorite times of year, when trees that have looked dead for months burst into life in clouds of pink and white petals. But it's a painfully short time; here and gone in just about two weeks. In Japan, the phrase 'mono no aware' is often used in reference to them: transient, impermanent beauty, and the importance of appreciating it while it's around. For me the season evokes manna in the Biblical story of Exodus. In the story, flaky white food settles on the ground each night as a gift from heaven. It lasts just long enough to be collected before being burned away by the morning sun. It must be eaten immediately, as any attempt to hoard it for even a day results in them rotting away, wasted. For me the message is the same: enjoy the beauty while it’s here and now. It won’t last, and while there’s a certain melancholy in knowing that, it makes them all the sweeter for it. This is especially true in Seattle, where residents celebrate spring and summer with an almost fanatic abandon after the long, gray winters. Cherry blossom season typically brings the first blue skies of the spring, and I chose a glaze that turned sky blue when it pools against the sharp edges of the petals. The result is that—like in real life—the blossoms carry in the year’s first hints of blue.
Glazed stoneware
April 2025
Fiddling while the World Burns
A celebration of righteous anger at those in power. The name comes from the infamous story of Nero playing the fiddle while Rome burns, paralleled by the rage many people feel about the useless current leadership in the world. Flames in all shapes and sizes engulf both hemispheres of the jar, with a smoke screen obscuring what’s going on at the top. A series of ornate apparatuses up top seem like they should function as handles, but when you take a closer look, there’s no way to use them to get a grip on the situation. They’re so overwrought and overdesigned that they fail in their fundamental function. In fact there’s no way for the viewer to pick it up without sticking their hands in the fire and getting burned, with the most direct way—supporting it from the bottom up—being the most uncomfortable. While most of the jars in this series are glazed in calm, stable tones, this one is instead finished in a splotchy, angrier color—in places a flushed red, in others a flashy white.
Glazed stoneware
May 2025
Seed
A celebration of potential. The main symbol on the three faces of the jar is a symbol with many interpretations, but one unified meaning: what comes next. Whether you see it as an embryo in its egg, a germ in its seed, or a fetus in its mother, it represents potential for the future. Each of the three faces is flanked by silos of seeds, stockpiled in preparation for the future, coiled and ready to spring into the unknown. On the bottom half of the jar, there’s a bed of tilled rows, prepared to nurture whatever comes next. On the lid, is a single, small acorn, ready and waiting for its future as towering oak.
Glazed stoneware
February 2025
Untitled Jar with Rings
A celebration of exploration. I didn’t have any specific ideas while working on this jar, other than just having fun exploring the applique decoration concepts that inspired this series. Lots of sketches, experiments, backtracking, retracing, backtracking again, and then finally deciding to see what the kiln gods had to say about matters. This was the first jar in the series, and basically every shape and concept on the other jars have their roots in experiments I did here. By some miracle, it all came out looking like a cohesive piece, so even if it doesn’t have a proper name, I thought it deserved a spot in the final set.
Glazed stoneware
February 2025
