Hand-sculped clay plaque | Fall 2025
Parallax of Home listens to the soft gravity of grief. The way loss bends time and distance, the way love lingers like starlight long after its source has gone.
I sculpted this piece in the cold months, thinking of all the people I still orbit, even in their absence. The golden house became a point of light… a small warmth flickering in the blue expanse.
It’s about the grief of missing someone, and the quiet hope that maybe they still feel the pull, too.
Hand-sculped clay plaque | Fall 2025
Parallax of Home listens to the soft gravity of grief. The way loss bends time and distance, the way love lingers like starlight long after its source has gone.
I sculpted this piece in the cold months, thinking of all the people I still orbit, even in their absence. The golden house became a point of light… a small warmth flickering in the blue expanse.
It’s about the grief of missing someone, and the quiet hope that maybe they still feel the pull, too.
