Lava

Soundtrack: Amara - Amanati

'Lava'

I make objects from earth — literally, from what lies beneath our feet.

But sometimes I want to get closer to what lies deeper: the crust that shifts and breaks, the molten rock that forces itself upward and solidifies, the red that turns black but stays red. Lavais that moment, frozen. The surface breaks the way crust breaks — not by me, but through the tension between what yields and what doesn't. I create the conditions, the earth decides the rest. There is something demonic in that colour — red on black evokes heat, underworld, primal force — and yet this is simply clay, the most earthly material there is. That paradox interests me: the everyday carrying the archaic. The earth is not calm. It never was.

On the lid, a knot of rope burned away in the kiln — only the clay that wrapped around it remains. Lava does the same: it flows around what it encounters, fossilises the shape of what was there, preserves the memory of connection long after the thing itself is gone. What binds us leaves a mark. Even in stone. Even forever — amara.

2026

Ceramics, glaze, pigment, wood ash, gold luster

Size: D cm, H cm, W cm (with lid)