Waiting for the alarm to cry
They say that the years are inscribed in the flesh of a tree, that its roots draw sustenance from the soil and its branches return fruit to the earth. From clay we come, and to it we return. Since ancient times, clay has shaped humanity — as containers of food, ritual objects, and symbols of power.
In my work, I revive the fauna and memory of indigenous cultures, from the jaguar to the deer and condor, while clay and fire embrace the irregular and the organic. My animals vibrate with both illusion and threat, revealing ecological devastation and forced migrations, while the vessels hold life that persists amid open wounds and exile.
For me, ceramics is an act of healing, resistance, and memory: a way to return a voice to the earth, make the unseen visible, and transform loss into hope.