In an increasingly fast-paced and digitally mediated world, moments of genuine human connection can feel increasingly rare. My artistic practice emerges from a desire to slow down, create opportunities for gathering, and explore the ways that shared experiences can foster community. Through ceramics, installation, and participatory projects, I investigate how art can function not merely as an object to be viewed but as a catalyst for human interaction. Influenced by theories of relational aesthetics, feminist art history, and the social traditions embedded within craft, my work centers on the shared meal, the table, and other communal spaces as sites where meaningful relationships can emerge. By examining artists such as Judy Chicago and Yayoi Kusama, as well as the theoretical framework established by Nicolas Bourriaud, I position my work within a broader history of artists who prioritize participation, community, and lived experience.

The foundation of my practice is rooted in everyday rituals. During my time at the University of Oregon, I was encouraged to critically examine the experiences that bring me joy and meaning. Again and again, I found myself returning to the farmers market. At first glance, the farmers market appears to be a simple site of commerce, but its significance extends far beyond economic exchange. It functions as a gathering place where relationships are built between growers, producers, and community members. It offers opportunities for conversation, education, and collective appreciation for the labor required to cultivate food. The farmers market demonstrates how everyday activities can become acts of community building, creating a sense of belonging through repeated encounters and shared values.

This understanding of community resonates with anthropological and sociological understandings of the shared meal. Across cultures and throughout history, eating together has served as a powerful means of establishing social bonds. Meals provide opportunities for storytelling, celebration, mourning, and the transmission of cultural knowledge. The table becomes a site where identities are negotiated and relationships are strengthened. In my artistic practice, I am interested in how art can recreate or reference these moments of gathering. Rather than producing objects that exist independently of human interaction, I seek to create conditions in which people can engage with one another.

This approach aligns closely with the theory of relational aesthetics developed by Nicolas Bourriaud in the 1990s. Bourriaud argued that contemporary art increasingly focuses on human relations and social interactions rather than autonomous art objects. He described relational artworks as spaces in which artists create opportunities for encounters between individuals. Rather than presenting a finished object for passive contemplation, relational art constructs situations in which viewers become active participants. The artwork exists not only in its material form but also in the relationships that emerge through engagement.

For Bourriaud, the value of these encounters lies in their ability to imagine alternative forms of social exchange within contemporary society. Relational artworks often mimic or reconfigure everyday activities such as cooking, dining, conversation, and collaboration. These familiar activities become artistic mediums through which artists explore questions of community, participation, and belonging. This theoretical framework provides a useful lens through which to understand my own work, which frequently draws upon familiar domestic and social rituals as a means of fostering interaction.

One artist whose work has profoundly influenced my thinking is Yayoi Kusama. While Kusama is often associated with her immersive environments and signature polka dots, I am particularly interested in her installation The Obliteration Room (2002–present). The work begins as a completely white domestic interior furnished with white objects. Visitors are invited to place colorful dot stickers throughout the space, gradually transforming the room over time. The significance of the work lies not in its final appearance but in the cumulative actions of its participants. Each visitor contributes to the evolving environment, making their presence visible within the installation.

What I find compelling about The Obliteration Room is its emphasis on participation and collective authorship. The artwork is not complete without the audience. Rather than positioning viewers as passive observers, Kusama invites them to become collaborators. The resulting installation reflects the traces of countless individual interactions. In this sense, the viewer's experience becomes more important than the object itself. This prioritization of participation has informed my own understanding of installation and community-based art practices.

Another significant influence on my work is Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party (1974–1979). Widely regarded as a landmark work of feminist art, The Dinner Party consists of a triangular banquet table featuring place settings dedicated to thirty-nine historically significant women. The installation incorporates ceramics, embroidery, textile arts, and extensive research into women's history. Beyond its visual impact, the project foregrounds the labor, collaboration, and craft traditions that made its creation possible.

Chicago's work demonstrates how the table can function as both a literal and symbolic site of gathering. The installation references the social act of sharing a meal while simultaneously addressing historical exclusion from cultural narratives. The collaborative nature of the project's production further reinforces themes of community and collective labor. Hundreds of volunteers contributed to the creation of The Dinner Party, making the work itself an embodiment of shared effort and participation.

As a ceramic artist, I am particularly drawn to Chicago's embrace of craft media. Historically, ceramics and other forms of craft have often been marginalized within art historical discourse due to their association with domestic labor and utility. Yet these same qualities make craft uniquely suited to exploring human relationships. Ceramic objects frequently occupy intimate spaces within daily life. Plates, bowls, mugs, and serving vessels accompany moments of nourishment, celebration, and connection. Through repeated use, these objects become embedded within personal and collective memory.

Glenn Adamson in Thinking Through Craft, argues that craft possesses a unique capacity to connect people through material engagement and shared cultural practices. Unlike many forms of fine art that prioritize visual contemplation, craft objects often invite touch, use, and participation. Their meanings emerge through interaction. This perspective has influenced my approach to ceramics, encouraging me to think beyond the object itself and consider the social experiences it facilitates.

My own work attempts to build upon these traditions by creating installations and participatory experiences that encourage interaction. In one recent guerrilla installation, I placed a floating coffee table with mugs in a busy foot path at the University. The work referenced the familiar setting of a conversation between two people while simultaneously disrupting expectations through its unusual presentation. The installation invited viewers to imagine themselves within the scene, prompting reflections on companionship, hospitality, and public space. The work's success was not determined by its formal qualities alone but by the conversations and interactions it generated among those who encountered it.

Similarly, my thesis exhibition incorporated participatory elements that encouraged viewers to contribute their own experiences. Inspired by relational and socially engaged art practices, I sought to create an environment that felt welcoming and accessible rather than exclusive or intimidating. Visitors were invited to reflect on questions related to gathering, community, and shared meals. Their responses became part of the exhibition itself, transforming the gallery into a collaborative space shaped by collective participation.

This emphasis on accessibility stems from my belief that art can function as a form of hospitality. Just as a shared meal welcomes people to gather around a table, an exhibition can create opportunities for dialogue and connection. The gallery becomes a social space rather than a purely aesthetic one. In this context, art is not simply something to be viewed; it becomes a framework for interaction.

As I continue to develop my practice beyond the University of Oregon, I am interested in expanding these ideas beyond traditional gallery spaces and into the communities that inspire my work. One of my future goals is to bring my pottery wheel to local farmers markets and create ceramic work in public as a form of demonstration and engagement. Rather than treating the act of making as something hidden within the studio, I hope to transform the process itself into an opportunity for conversation and connection. The pottery wheel naturally invites curiosity, encouraging people to pause, ask questions, and share stories. In this way, the act of throwing clay becomes not only a method of production but also a social practice.

The farmers market is a particularly meaningful site for this work because it embodies many of the values that guide my artistic practice: community, collaboration, local knowledge, and the celebration of everyday rituals. Just as vendors gather to share food and handcrafted goods, I hope to contribute to this environment by creating moments of exchange through ceramics. These interactions may be brief, but they have the potential to foster a sense of belonging and shared experience among strangers.

Ultimately, my artistic practice is motivated by a desire to cultivate meaningful encounters. Whether drawing inspiration from the farmers market, the dinner table, or participatory installations, I am interested in the ways that art can encourage people to slow down and engage with one another. Influenced by relational aesthetics, feminist art history, and craft traditions, I seek to create work that prioritizes experience over objecthood and connection over isolation.

The shared meal serves as both a metaphor and a model for this practice. It reminds us that some of the most significant moments in life occur not through grand gestures but through everyday acts of gathering. As I move forward, I hope to continue creating spaces—both within and beyond the gallery—that encourage participation, conversation, and reflection. Through ceramics, public engagement, and community-centered projects, I aim to explore how art can strengthen the relationships that connect us to one another and to the places we call home.