They buried us, but they did not know that we were seeds

This project reflects on my childhood in a small village divided in half by a highway. I think about my neighbours’ vegetable garden, which later disappeared beneath poured concrete - a transformation that mirrors the way we continue to treat the natural world.

Although this memory carries sadness, I keep thinking about the seeds hidden beneath the concrete, waiting to break through. I imagine plants growing through cracks and slowly overtaking whatever tries to suppress them. In this image, I find hope and the possibility of renewal.

I collect seeds and keep them close to me in everyday life. The seeds I find inspire the organic forms I create in clay, shaping seed-like sculptures that speak of growth and transformation. I shape the soft material roughly at first, allowing my body to guide the forms before the clay gradually transforms and hardens, making space for more refined and detailed work.

Raku firing fascinates me through its unpredictable crack patterns and the strong contrast between black, white, and grey tones. The raku glaze allows me to emphasize the quiet force of seeds pushing through concrete, revealing the strength and persistence found in slow growth.