This series began as an act of looking closely. As I paint the ancient Zuni pottery, I find myself slowing down, paying attention to the quiet intelligence in each line, curve, and repetition. The designs feel both strong and refined—tribal in origin, yet undeniably elegant. Color and composition are never arbitrary; everything feels considered, balanced, and purposeful.
With each piece, new meaning reveals itself. What first appears as pattern becomes rhythm, and then something closer to language. Working through these forms feels like engaging with poetry from a time far removed from our own—poetry shaped by continuity, observation, and respect for natural order rather than personal expression.
The process is meditative. I’m not trying to improve or reinterpret the designs, but to sit with them, learn from them, and respond through paint. In doing so, the work becomes a conversation across time, one that asks for patience, humility, and presence. Each painting deepens my understanding, not only of the pottery, but of how meaning can live quietly within form.