Duck Pot

This sculptural vessel reads like a creature paused mid-metamorphosis—part pitcher, part bird—its elongated spout and looping handle forming a single, continuous gesture that pulls the eye in a slow arc from beak to belly. The glaze drifts between warm ochres and smoky blues, as if heat and shadow are negotiating ownership of the surface, lending the form a quiet, weathered authority. Set against an austere ground, it becomes less a utilitarian object than a meditation on containment: a body built to hold, yet shaped by motion, suggesting that even stillness can be a kind of flight.