What inspires the shapes in your craft sculpture collection?

Every shape in my craft sculpture collection begins with a quiet conversation between my hands and the world around me. I don’t sketch from photos or copy existing forms; instead, I let the materials—bronze, steel, reclaimed wood, and sometimes even stone—guide my vision. The organic curves you see are often echoes of a river carving its path through a canyon, or the way a bamboo stalk bends under the weight of morning dew without breaking.

I am endlessly captivated by the tension between strength and fragility. That is why many of my pieces feature asymmetrical, almost precarious balances. They mimic the branches of an old oak tree after a storm, or the ripple marks left on a sandy shore by retreating tide. One piece might take its primary curve from the spine of a fallen leaf I found on a forest walk; another, the hollow interior from the inside of a sea urchin shell.

But nature is only half the story. Human emotion shapes the rest. When I work, I think about the feeling of reaching out for something just beyond grasp, or the quiet relief of letting go. These emotional arcs translate into sweeping arcs and sudden, sharp angles. A friend once told me my twisted wire sculptures reminded her of “frozen gestures”—a hand about to wave, a dancer mid-turn.

Ultimately, I shape metal and wood into objects that feel alive, as if they grew rather than were made. I hope that when you see them, you sense the wind, the water, and the heartbeat that inspired them.