Jumping Creek Pottery

When I was 16 years old I began to white water kayak.
The Kootenay River, where I learned to paddle is a surge of glacier-melt turquoise, water. It winds down through a valley of unfathomable beauty, flanked by hoodoos and river rock. My body learned how to move in and out of rapids, my heart discovered joy.

It was on one of these beautiful stony beaches that I became a maker. I had decided to become a stone mason. I was obsessed by giving homage to the simple beauty of those river stones. Later that summer I was introduced to a book called Handmade Tiles by Frank Giorgin and started my life with clay. Mountains and rivers have remained my most passionate muse, and craft my strong and sure footed life partner. I work as a potter as well as a carpenter. Pottery allows me quiet time alone. My hands form clay pots made by the contrast of centrifuge, compression and tension. Carpentry on the other hand is loud, rough and all extraversion. My head slips and slides over numbers and sequences while I visualize, translate and organize wood into precise cuts. My body leans into my movements, trying to add force to my actions, muting the noise of the other saws and hammers on a job site.
I would love to think that a house I build, a teapot I create or a mixing bowl I throw will become someone’s life long companion, and provide thousands of hours of use and enjoyment.

I was once told that I am so fortunate to know exactly what I want in this world.
I want to make pottery.
I want to build with wood.
I want to cook intoxicating meals for the people I love.
And I want to spend time in the wild wilds of this enchanting world. I do not take my luxury of time and ability to reach my goals for granted.
I give thanks with every object that I create. Pushing my skills sets and working towards creating each piece better than the one made before it.

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