ceramics

ceramics 2026

more coming soon

Collection of handmade white ceramic vases, bowls, plates, and floral ornaments arranged on a white surface.

Collection of white ceramic vases, bowls, floral dishes, and a rabbit figurine displayed on a white surface

Five white ceramic vases decorated with pastel flowers, arranged on a white background

Decorative white porcelain vase with a flared, petal-shaped rim and hand-painted floral and bird designs

We Were Fated To Pretend

In philosophy (most notably in the works of Heidegger and Sartre), facticity refers to the unchangeable, “given” conditions of one’s life.

I used to think beings could only exist within viscerality. To “be” is to run around in all our profoundly corporeal forms– writhing and intestinal– dragging ourselves through muck and making sense of everything we perceive. There is no stringent definition of what constitutes being, only a tacitly understood characteristic of vitality. We surrender to our own facticity, because to be is to forever surrender to perception, and what is facticity without perception? If I made this ceramic series a depiction of a horrifying massacre, with imagery of carnage and dust instead of delicate flora and fauna, you would react very differently, right? The viscerality of these vessels cannot be perceived on the surface the same way viscera like bodily fluids and appendages are perceived. That is why there is violence to our facticity, because it is what makes us vulnerable to perception. But we exist beyond facticity; we exist in corporeality but also in transcendence, in dimensions of being but also in dimensions beyond our comprehension. We are multifaceted, and that is what I am trying to convey with this piece: beings are not limited to what we perceive of them.

The facticity of my pieces lie in their porcelain material– inoffensively fragile– and the constant state of precariousness that they exist in. But ultimately, the relics of our being do not lie in our facticity, but rather, in what exists beyond that. This all could’ve been a 5 sentence description, but I elected to dispense all my pseudo-profundity onto this page at the expense of the reader. Also, I stole the title of this piece from an MGMT song.

Display of handmade ceramic bowls, cups, plates, jars, and a teapot arranged on a white exhibition table

Decorative ceramic teapot with floral and dragon designs on a wooden board in a workshop

I Know My Friends and I Would Probably Turn and Run

Photo courtesy of Chloe Sun

Ceramics are presented piece by piece by piece. Multiples of vessels swarm like schools of fish, revelling in nebulous precision. They seize tragedies and swallow them like deep waves, cutting open gaping souls and revealing arching, shining husks. Picnics are of the same nature. Each pastry and finger food provides some different

charm to the layout; the same way something verdant rises from every ceramic vessel. Each of these plates and cups hold internal facets that I am privy to. I was privy to how Valerie never resented dancing the same paper waltz over and over each time she wrote about Spinoza. How Anderson lost passion for architecture, yet betrayed his original dream every time he spoke about it. How Bloom had no choice but to pursue business because the necessity of a green card eclipsed her inner desire to perform in theaters.

I am let into the pieces and pieces and pieces of each person’s life. We see our own reflections in the nauseating shine of ceramic, and we embrace our abstract affections.