I place great importance on the atmosphere in which I work. I like to create an environment that fosters focus by lighting candles and incense while listening to music. On some days, I develop a specific idea by referring to sketches in my notebook. On other occasions, I take a more intuitive approach, allowing my inspiration to guide me without a predefined concept.

For several years, I have been interested in the concept of the interconnectedness of living species. Nature, in all its complexity, is my primary source of inspiration. I regularly draw on literary essays such as Dreaming the Dark by Starhawk, Le livre des larves by Marion Zilio, and Metamorphoses by Emanuele Coccia to inform and enrich my thinking.

Working with ceramics is both a demanding and unpredictable process. Clay, a material that is at once fragile and endowed with a strong memory, is also remarkably resilient. Each stage of the creative process requires careful attention, as the material retains the traces of every gesture applied to it. The firing stage, in particular, introduces an element of uncertainty: the chemical reactions of the glazes, along with the transformation of the clay under the heat of the kiln, can produce unexpected results. This experimental dimension is an integral part of my practice and contributes to the uniqueness of each piece.

Fire and heat occupy a central place in my research. Through the raku technique, I integrate destruction, chance, and unpredictability as constitutive dimensions of the work itself. Thermal shock, cracking, smoke firing, and surface alterations become visible traces of an intense, almost ritual transformation that the material undergoes.

I aim to further develop a resolutely interdisciplinary research practice, bringing together animal studies, zoology, biology, and botany in order to better understand the logics of symbiosis, adaptation, and interdependence between species and their environments. Entomology and ichthyology, in particular, inform my reflection on morphologies, living structures, and collective systems in which the individual is always part of a larger whole. The figure of the amphibian interests me as a symbol of transition, in-betweenness, and hybridity, embodying states of passage between different environments and forms of existence.

Furthermore, psychology sheds light on my interest in mechanisms of projection as well as our emotional and symbolic relationship to the non-human. These various lines of inquiry intersect and resonate with ecofeminist theories, which examine the parallels between the exploitation of bodies, territories, and species, and offer a critical reading of interconnected systems of oppression.

I try to allow forms to emerge intuitively from the clay, favoring a direct and sensitive relationship with the material. I use very few tools, preferring to work mainly with my hands in order to maintain an immediate connection with the textures, resistance, and transformations of the medium.

In my practice, I also place particular importance on the intention I bring to each piece. The emotional state in which I work sometimes influences the creative process and can be reflected in the final outcome. When I am stressed or preoccupied, some pieces tend to become more fragile during firing, occasionally cracking or even exploding in the kiln.

I place great importance on the atmosphere in which I work. I like to create an environment that fosters focus by lighting candles and incense while listening to music. On some days, I develop a specific idea by referring to sketches in my notebook. On other occasions, I take a more intuitive approach, allowing my inspiration to guide me without a predefined concept.