Dreams earth

Everything begins in my village, at the home of dear friends, where the clay-rich earth holds the memory of the seasons. It is there that I extract the clay, by hand, with their patient and respectful help. Once collected, I place it in large barrels and immerse it completely in water. This long and silent bath lasts for several weeks. Gradually, the earth breaks down, becoming liquid and more pliable.

I come back regularly to stir it, making sure that no fragment escapes dissolution. When the material is ready, I filter it through a very fine, almost textile-like sieve to remove stones, twigs, and other impurities. What remains is pure clay, as smooth as velvet.

The filtered clay then rests in buckets. Over time, the water slowly evaporates, revealing a soft and still moist material. I then remove it, place it on a cloth, and let the wind and days work their magic. During these weeks, I work the clay regularly, shaping and turning it. Little by little, it takes form, becoming a solid log, ready to be modeled.

Before I could start, I had to test its resistance to firing—several trials and many doubts. But always with the same passion and a lot of patience, the clay revealed its ability to withstand heat without breaking.

This clay is unique. Very supple, very malleable, but also fragile, as it contains no grog. It requires a careful hand, attentive to each gesture, a real dialogue with the material. It took me almost a year to tame this clay, and today, many of my sculptures are born from this alchemy.

What makes them unique is precisely this clay. I never measure the mixtures I sometimes make with commercial clays. So the color varies each time. Each piece has its own shade, its own texture, its own character. No two are alike. And that is what I love most of all: that, like this process, they are deeply alive.

I hope this journey from start to finish will enchant you, and that you’ll feel the energy radiating from each of my creations.