On Rhythm
Rhythm is not something I add to a vessel. It’s something I listen for.
When the wheel begins to turn, there is a point where movement becomes calm, and calm becomes direction. The line of a neck, the curve of a shoulder, the narrowing of a foot — they all fall into a pattern that feels discovered rather than imposed.
I throw each form again and again until the proportions begin to speak the same language. It’s not repetition. It’s recognition.
A vessel carries its own quiet pulse, and my task is simply to reveal it with clarity.
