Vase with snake details on handles

This collection of stoneware pieces was not made with Women's Month in mind - and yet, in their quiet defiance of theme, they find their place here. Making and creating is a way of life for me. If I don't incorporate it into my daily rhythm, I feel unmoored. Some people need exercise; I need to create. Clay is the only thing that stills my mind - a kind of therapy, deeply consuming and honest. This body of work grew from that place of inner necessity. The snake motifs emerged during a time I felt betrayed, echoing the Afrikaans saying "daar is 'n slang in die gras" - there's a snake in the grass. A literal visitor to my garden and a metaphorical one in my life found their way into these forms, winding along handles and vessels. To me, the snake is not just a warning, but a symbol of deep awareness and instinct. The crayfish came to me through the beach walks in Betty's Bay, where my studio sits near the shore. Their cast-off tails are strewn across the sand - a haunting trace of presence and absence. Perhaps a nod to poaching, perhaps simply nature at work. Either way, their hard shells and delicate forms became part of my language. My work often blurs utility and sculpture. Shelves, wall pieces, vessels - they serve a purpose, but they also ask for contemplation. Each one is a little strange, a little raw, and fully honest. They are eclectic, emotional, and unfiltered. These are not decorative distractions. They are offerings - small pieces of emotion, texture, and transformation. They belong in homes that see beauty in imperfection and strength in softness. And that, I suppose, is how they belong in this month dedicated to women: as objects shaped by care, complexity, and quiet resilience.