I texture my work with the ghost of dead creatures; relief moulds of their physical remains. The contemplative ritual of collecting, cleaning, and pressing shells and bones into soft clay is quite peaceful. There is such beauty in these organic forms. I find the (Western) societal perception of shells and their collection in particular quite fascinating. They are seen as feminine tokens of summer and family trips to the beach. Did we forget they once contained a living animal? Is it an honour or a denigration to display shells in a holiday home, or to use their textures in art? 

Perhaps the answer is in the intent. 

I use these oceanic forms because in the context of pottery, they evoke ancientness, giving the sense that an object has been submerged for decades. Rather than recreate a realistic barnacle crust, I treat the shell forms and clay surface as one, glazing them alike. More than old pots, these forms communicate aspects of nature and humanity that have been inherent since their beginning: loss, grief, the unrelenting passage of time, and the infinite unknown.