My love for ceramics started when I was about ten years old, when my mom signed me up for a ceramics class in Fullerton.

Looking back at the things I made back then, I have to laugh—they were pretty terrible. But at ten years old, I didn't care about making something perfect. I was just SO excited to make something with my own hands, especially something I could give to my mom and my grandma.

And they kept them. They even had a place in our china cabinet, right alongside the things we actually thought were nice enough to display.

Those little, imperfect pieces are still with us today. And I think that's one of the things that stayed with me all these years… the idea that something you make with your own hands can become more than just an object. It can hold a memory, mark a moment, or simply make someone you love happy.

Over the years, ceramics found its way back into my life. What started as a childhood class became something I wanted to explore again as an adult—a chance to slow down, get my hands in the clay, experiment, and see what happens.

My work isn't about perfection. It's about the process, the surprises, and the feeling of creating something that didn't exist before.

I'm still learning, still experimenting, and still getting excited when I open the kiln and see what came out.

Thank you for being here and following along on the journey.