My practice is rooted in a deep, evolving relationship with earth—as material, metaphor, and method. Ceramics is not merely a craft for me, but a way of thinking and building. I work across scales and disciplines, from architecture to sculpture, using clay in its many states—from fired stoneware to raw earth, from modular bricks to monolithic rammed-earth forms.

I am drawn to the tactile intelligence of ceramics: how it remembers pressure, records time, and embodies transformation through fire. In architectural contexts, I explore ceramics as both structure and surface—brick, tile, and rammed earth become tools for spatial storytelling. In sculpture and object-making, I engage with the intimacy of form and texture, using clay’s responsiveness to convey emotion, tension, and gesture.

Whether working with high-fired stoneware or experimenting with unfired earth, I approach ceramics as an ecological and communal medium—one that holds memory, carries tradition, and invites collaboration. This material connects the ancestral with the contemporary, the elemental with the conceptual, offering an enduring platform for exploration and dialogue.

Water is central to my practice—both as a physical material and as a carrier of memory, community, and transformation. My ongoing engagement with the Danube focuses on the river not only as a natural body but as a living archive shaped by the people who inhabit its banks. Through fieldwork and participatory projects, I explore how water sustains, erodes, and connects—serving as both boundary and bridge across cultural and ecological histories.

Salt, as water’s crystallized trace, enters my work as a poetic material. My early experiments in saline environments like Torrevieja informed my approach, investigate salt as a product of time, care, and collective knowledge. Here, water becomes a medium of reciprocity—linking material processes with social practices rooted in place.

My practice is grounded in the ethical and creative reuse of materials. I source components from the overlooked margins—offcuts from furniture workshops, discarded fragments from construction sites, and detritus gathered along the banks of the Danube. These materials carry their own histories, textures, and narratives, which I integrate into new architectural and artistic forms.

Rather than treating recycling as a constraint, I view it as an opportunity for intelligent design—an exercise in resource optimization and adaptive thinking. Each project begins with what already exists, embracing imperfection, scarcity, and transformation as design principles. Through this approach, I aim to challenge linear modes of production and propose alternative material economies rooted in care, locality, and resilience.