My monument is to a form I am very familiar with, yet new to creating with clay: the humble mug. Over the years I have collected mugs from thrift stores and friends, with each one being unique and loved and sometimes stained. I agonize over picking one for tea in the morning, afternoon, and night, obsessed with the perfect mug for the occasion or guest. Having a collection of any sort is special; it’s holding on to something with that pack-rat-like mentality, yet also cherishing something and giving it a history. I know I have too many, but there is actually no such thing as too many mugs. 

Thinking in no particular order about this making of a mass, form, quantity, functionality and inutility, preciousness, and the act of collecting, I created Mug mountain. Out of cups hand built and wheel thrown, cut and warped, and stained black for contrast, the moments of seeming destruction combine to construct something. In this way, the mountain is a monument to the practice of making, the experience of breaking, a fine balance between minimalism and maximalism, and your favorite mug.
12 x 12 x 12 in variable installation of pieces
Glazed ceramic and Mason-stained stoneware
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