Through ceramics, I can freeze dynamic movement into a lasting form. Above all, I want to capture and visualize interconnectivity and human relationships, which are in a constant state of flux. I find the idea intriguing that one cannot be disconnected or unrelated to others—that there are invisible wires and frequencies that determine the extent to which we are linked. We are all intricately intertwined and exert mutual influence on each other. Additionally, I am fascinated by the idea of a collective consciousness or an invisible network.

In my artistic work, I often move between abstraction and figuration. In recent years, abstracted swings, see-saws, or slides have repeatedly appeared in my pieces. For me, they symbolize a longing for childhood, lightness, and carefree moments, but also refer to repetitive human activities—such as the rhythmic rocking motion. At the same time, they reflect a certain fluctuation, a play of hot and cold—ultimately the dual nature of existence. However, it’s not just about childish fun, but also about the pleasure of adult lovers. Just like the Rococo painter Fragonard depicted the game of love in his painting The Swing, I’m interested in the subtle connections between love and play, which often go hand in hand.

In my current sculptures, flora and fauna also serve as a source of inspiration. The symbol of the plant or flower currently supports my work in many ways. Metaphorically, the plant is as multifaceted as the playground objects in my earlier works. Here, I am particularly interested in the intertwining of individual beings—as well as the concept of transience. At the same time, my engagement with these themes also carries some frustration: about the permanent change in connectivity, about the fact that the cards are always being reshuffled. Although one could view the constant change of things as peaceful, since change, in itself, is a reliable constant, I personally often find this instability burdensome.

The attempt to represent dynamics and energetic relationships in a three-dimensional form brings me a certain inner peace. Working with clay is deeply satisfying—it has a cathartic function. I especially appreciate that I can use my hands as a tool. The direct transfer of skin (with its countless nerve pathways) to earth is essential for me—the process of shaping clay is thus immediate, intimate, and meaningful. I provide my subconscious with a material and let it flow, without letting my mind overly control what emerges. Although I have thought about real, existing figures beforehand, these influences should remain secondary. What matters most to me is allowing fluid processes to take place.

My artistic creation feels meditative and ritualistic to me. I appreciate the contrast between the fast, dynamic work with clay and the lengthy, patient finishing phase. At the same time, I am fascinated by the idea of "fossilizing" a very personal gesture through the extreme temperatures of the kiln and coating it with glaze to make it even more durable.