What’s left behind

When I sculpt, clay gets left behind. This clay, too, has a place. What was once part of something else becomes something of its own. In my case, the leftovers become vases. The idea originally came from visits to friends, where I watched their children gather small bouquets from the gardens or wildflowers in nearby fields. These might consist of spring flowers, twigs, or sometimes just weeds. When handed to their parents, they were immediately placed in a shot glass filled with water. There they would sit, looking quite dull. I wanted to create something beautiful, small and simple to hold these plants.

Just like the children’s bouquets, the vases are not “perfect.” There is no exact symmetry, the surface is often uneven, and the iron sulfate frequently runs beyond the edges of the holes that keeps the plants in place. That’s fine. They aren’t meant to be perfect—after all, what is perfection?