Ceramic chain-mail, an elaborate, all-consuming artistic endeavor. A ritual that eats hours and days: rinse, repeat. As I spend time building, methodically and slowly, the rings take their form. The order of the links logs the time I spend almost robotically, my mind turned off, actions more instinctual through repetition. What begins as structure becomes surrender. The links slip. The weight of the clay asserts itself.

In the soda firing, the rings are marked by flame and vapor, flashes of oranges, greens, ambers, and metallic sheens across the surface. The atmosphere settles unpredictably, emphasizing edges and pooling in crevices, recording the movement of heat the way the woven links record the movement of my hands. Control gives way to chance; repetition meets erosion.

Ceramic chain-mail holds a tension between strength and fragility, permanence, and collapse. It mimics protection, yet it is brittle. It appears industrial, yet it is entirely handmade. Through labor-intensive repetition and eventually disruption, the work becomes a record of time, endurance, and the quiet moment when discipline yields to vulnerability.  

My work reflects myself and my obsession to meet other people’s expectations of greatness or success. “Through hard work and determination, I will be great and successful!” This is a mindset no one can keep up; eventually, the weight of perfection gives way, and one’s true self makes way. In great risk is great reward, but more importantly, those who successfully take great risks gain the respect of others. In my work, large scale, quality, and quantity, intricacy, and calculations are all important factors, but the most important are in the final moments in the building process and the reflection of the emotions not felt but had in those moments. Imperfection is inevitable; that’s the beauty. It highlights the vulnerability of people peering through the mask of perfection. Without one, we can not understand or appreciate the other.