Inspired by my time at the Art residency in Peru, I found a deep interest in natural materialsI am currently researching natural materials, focusing on clay and willow weaving. My process is slow and intentional—I don’t buy clay from a store but go outside to find it, process it, and discover how it wants to take shape. Each step deepens my connection to nature, allowing the material to guide the process rather than imposing a predetermined outcome.  

Through this, I am also searching for my own origins. I have long looked to other cultures and traditions, but I now ask: where do I come from? How does the earth work there? By working directly with raw materials, I challenge the uniformity of mass-produced materials and industrialized making. Instead of striving for perfection or predictability, I embrace the diversity and unpredictability that nature offers—each piece carrying the traces of its place, history, and transformation. 

In doing this, I have come to see craftsmanship as a 

way to resist industrialization. The art of craftmanship is fading, replaced by efficiency and mass production. But true making requires time, care, and a deep relationship with materials. It is not just about creating objects; it is about learning from the land, from tradition, and from slowness itself.  

This process also follows the rhythm of the seasons. The materials I gather are not always available; the earth shifts, and so does my practice. Clay is best found in wet seasons, willow is harvested in winter when the sap has withdrawn. My body, too, moves with these cycles. In colder months, the work turns inward—processing, weaving, shaping. As warmth returns, the body opens, hands reach outward, structures expand. By aligning my making with the seasons, I allow my body to be guided by nature’s timing rather than forcing production. This way, my work becomes not just about nature, but of nature—woven into its cycles, its patience, and its constant transformation.

Practically, this research has led me to search for clay in my hometown, Venlo, where I collected raw earth and experimented with its properties. I tested different ways of refining and shaping the clay, exploring how it reacts to touch and movement. To understand its behavior under heat, I experimented with various firing methods and temperatures, including pit firing—an ancient technique that uses an open fire to harden the clay. Each test reveals something new about the material: its limits, its resilience, and how it responds to the process. Through these experiments, I am learning not only how to work with clay but how to listen to it, allowing it to shape the direction of my practice. In this, I feel that I have finally found the path I want to mature in—one that is deeply rooted in working with natural materials, especially clay and weaving, where slowness, intuition, and connection guide the making process.