I suffer from mental illness, I’m a sexual minority, and I’m still grieving a great loss that has left a hole through my chest. Working with ceramics, the tactile sensation of physically manipulating clay, has kept me from completely falling into darkness. For me, art is freedom from rumination. The act of creating a form is like sealing all the negative thoughts away and burning them off in the kiln like an effigy.  My art is a way of communicating what I can’t express verbally without the fear of being misunderstood or saying the wrong thing. It’s a way to put myself out there and interact with people. A lot of my pieces are hands and arms and body parts that symbolize my desire for that connection. Solid, 3D forms reaching out that you can hold and feel.

I feel that I bring a specific type of humour to my art. It’s mostly those awkward jokes followed by an uncomfortable silence in a crowded room. I want to convey the feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb when you just want to disappear; Feeling like everyone can see all your flaws on display under neon lights and everyone is looking at you can cut you off from the people around you and make you want to shrink. I use bold and bright colours to bring that feeling out into the open. If people could see each other’s anxieties instead of focusing on their own, they’d realize that they’re not alone and they don’t have to feel alone. If my art is loud and bright, maybe people will see what my anxieties are and it will quiet theirs down. Art is therapy.