Ceramic, glaze, thread
5.75 × 7 × 2.25 in.

Pit-fired ceramic, wild boar hair, epoxy, paste finishing wax
10 × 4.75 × 3.5 in

A ceramic shaving brush for all your beard-care needs.

Stoneware, glaze
20.5 × 10.5 × 11.25 in.

I remember being told the I-15 once bloomed. Each spring like a fever. Poppies everywhere. Entire hillsides burning orange.

I remember being told the prisons rose one-by-one. Like bad dreams. Each one swallowing more sky, more of the water we thought would always be there.

I remember snow. Enough to ride a sled.

And rain. How it came all at once. How we ran through it, my mother and I. The moon behind us, or ahead, I forget. How it climbed the mountains like it knew us. Like it wanted to follow.

“Even the Gods Need to Know They’re Not Alone: A Cairn for the Ancient Ones,” 2025
ceramic, glaze
11 × 8 × 7.5 in

Exhibition History:
2025 - The Place Above, Artemis LA

The Desert Buddha rises from the Mojave, born from the arid landscape of a vast, forgotten temple. Shaped by the dirt, its texture reflects the land’s rough, exposed surfaces. It is not a figure removed from its environment but one that shares its fate with the desert.

When the buddhas arrived in the desert, the earth trembled with longing, and the poppies, golden and wild, sprung forth wherever their feet pressed the dust.

[SOLD]

The figures in this sculpture emerge without blueprint. Far from Vietnam, our ancestors have nonetheless traveled with us. No longer bound to their land of origin, their forms have been reshaped by the journey. Their presence is felt in the boulders that rise like gods. Their watchful eyes, altered by time and distance, survey not in judgment, but with steady protection.

[SOLD]

Bá Ngoại refers to a maternal grandmother in Vietnamese. This functional sculpture draws from the culture’s matriarchal aspects. While the figure it represents is no longer with us, she remains a lasting presence. Bà Ngoại commands attention, silently asking for prayers, much like those offered to ancestors when entering a home.

The attachments on this vessel suggest movement. In the desert, time is measured by moonlight, as the sun’s harshness makes it impossible to track the day. This vessel acts as a marker, its form reflecting the rhythm of an environment where light is unyielding, and the desert’s pulse is felt only in the cool of the night.