It's about time for me to rewrite this introduction, since I joined the evil side called oceanography and haven't produced anything new for months..
Growing up, art and nature have always been my "thing"..who says they are uncoupled anyway. It wasn't until my junior year in high school that I became interested in ceramics. The feeling that even the most amazing work originated from glops of white clay was simply irresistable. Unlike painting over a canvas or drawing in a sketch book, I felt like clay allows me to express my ideas, crazy or cliche, with no limitations.. Those two years of pottery in high school left me with a solid foundation in terms of techniques. Even though my stuff at the time might look raw, perhaps I was more fearless at the beginning.
I didn't touch those red kaolinites again until two years later - my junior year at Boston University. Pleasantly surprised by how much of that intuition remained, it didn't take me very long to shake off those two seasons of rust. The idea of keeping surfaces fresh and not over-working might be the best advice I've ever received.. I spent six months working exclusively on teapots, and along the way people called me "the teapot guy". Check out my BU galleries let me know if that nickname is justified.
More recently, I got my hands wet with the river buff clay in New Zealand. For such a small country, their culture in pottery is as broad as any: tree trunk firing, salting, you name it. Even though the process of building is unfavorable thermodynamically, hasn't art always been about mimicing nature and rising above it?
In addition to ceramics, over the years I also did a fair amount of drawings and paintings.. Included here are some of those two-dimensional art that aren't showing up very well under my camera. Nevertheless, you might be able to gain a deeper and more complete understanding of what I'm trying, or not trying to say..
M.Y.
3/8/06
