encantos

I work with clay as a way of listening to the land.

In the regions that shape this body of work—West Texas and Northern New Mexico—the ground carries memory. Wind, water, heat, and time leave their marks slowly. What endures is not fixed, but held in layers, in fractures, in the places where erosion and repair meet. Encantos grew from this way of seeing: the quiet pull of place, the sense that something is always being gathered, guided, sheltered, and shaped by forces larger than ourselves.

The Wayfinders emerged from walking these landscapes. Birds and cairns become markers of orientation—not destinations, but moments of attention. They speak to movement, to shifting light, to the long rhythms of water, weather, and season, and to the subtle ways we find our bearings in unfamiliar terrain.

The Guardians take the form of vessels. They hold, protect, and contain—shaped by binding, pressure, and time. These are not functional containers, but carriers of memory and endurance, bearing traces of fracture, weathering, and the quiet labor of holding what is fragile.

The works of The In-Between occupy thresholds. Shelters, receivers, and strata reflect places of pause and transition, where what has passed leaves a trace and what remains has not yet fully settled. They are shaped by erosion, by accumulation, and by the slow work of repair.

Encantos is not about spectacle. It is about presence. About the way land, time, and memory quietly shape form—and how clay, drawn from the earth itself, can become a vessel for that listening.