The Ninth:
What Remains (2025)

Originally conceived as a set of nine, only two goblets endured the full making process, a quiet meditation on fragility, failure, and form. What remains tells the story more honestly than a perfect set ever could.

Of nine, only two withstood the fire. Not untouched, but intact. Not flawless, but whole. They are what remained, and that is enough.

This project began with frustration.

Back in February 2025, I set out to make a set of sculptural goblets. I had a clear vision: slender stems, floral silhouettes, elegant forms. But the stems kept collapsing under the weight of the cups. I couldn’t crack it. So I paused. Stepped away. Let it breathe.

Two months later, I returned with a new approach and made twelve. Two collapsed under plastic. One broke in the bone-dry stage. I was left with nine.

Eight of them looked like a family, variations on a shared theme. But one stood out. It was off-balance, structurally different, and didn’t quite fit. And I decided to celebrate that.

I handbuild all my work. No molds, no machines, just hands, clay, time, and care. I lean into the flaws, the risks, the patience it takes to get there. Every wobble and curve carries a decision: to adapt, to let go, to keep going. That’s what I love most about this process.

But clay remembers. And fire decides.

By the end, only two goblets truly remained, intact, upright, still themselves. The others slumped, cracked, fused, or faltered.

So The Ninth became something else.

No longer about completing a set. Now it’s about what endures, not because it was perfect, but because it withstood the process. These two carry the full weight of the journey: trial, failure, survival. They remind me that beauty isn’t always about symmetry or completion.

Sometimes, the most honest work is what’s left standing.