Gathering wild clay

Over time, my artistic practice has shifted toward a deeper immersion in the territory, both as a place of life and as a living material archive. Faced with the environmental challenges of our time, I have felt an urgent need to rethink the origin of the materials I use and to develop a more conscious, grounded relationship with the landscape around me. This is how I began to learn, slowly and with care, how to identify, collect, and process wild clay.

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Preparing my own clay is now an essential part of my work; by selecting sites close to where I live, I journey into the heart of the earth’s memory. I enter these places with gratitude, coming into contact with each decomposed rock sediment that, over thousands of years, has travelled to finally arrive in my hands.

Far from large factories and the noise of industrial machines, I offer the earth a process of transformation that is both respectful and dignified.

 

My investigations into geology and chemistry have deepened this dialogue with matter—knowing the names of rocks, understanding the journey of each particle, inspires me to tell stories rooted in ancient timeframes and to bring them into the present. It feels as if the stones themselves still want to speak to the contemporary world, so that we don’t forget where everything once began.

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These investigations have also led me to explore alternative ways of working with clay—creating in direct dialogue with the environment, without the need for firing, or using ancient techniques such as pit firing. Photography has become part of my practice as well, allowing me to document ephemeral forms and gestures that do not need to be fired to exist. These discoveries respond to a desire to make ceramics more accessible, removing the economic and technical barriers that often separate people from this medium. In this sense, I seek to empower others to express themselves through clay using resources that are already within our reach.