When I tell people I’m an artist they usually think of paintings and drawings. But an artist can be so much more than those things. Art is diverse and unique to the individual.

I often feel like the art I make is seen as much more niche than it should be. As a sculptor I work with clay but not on a wheel. I find myself having to be very specific when I talk about what kind of art I make.

Although I do occasionally paint and draw (two things that got me into art to begin with), I’m a very different kind of artist. 

I began sculpting my sophomore year. It was interesting and new, and despite having only done drawings and paintings at this point I was hesitant to join those classes because I didn’t want to be forced to make realistic art. 

I found clay to be very forgiving of your mistakes, which cannot be said for other mediums (mediums being the materials used to make a work of art). I was set on learning everything for myself, which led me to pick things up very easily.

The downside of this being I felt I knew better than the teacher and decided against using certain techniques that would prevent my piece from breaking in the kiln (an oven finished clay pieces are put into so that they are less fragile). 

There’s nothing more heartbreaking than walking into class and hearing that your piece didn’t survive the kiln. So much can go wrong; and if you aren’t careful during the building process the kiln may destroy weeks if not months of hard work.

I learned from my mistakes very quickly and soon went onto more challenging pieces. My art usually gets noticed for its size and detail. My first real piece was a dragon head the size of a large laptop.

I like to say this was the piece that taught me the most. I’m a very hands-on learner, especially when it comes to art. There’s not much that can be said to me without me having to verify it first hand.

It wasn’t perfect. And although that bothered me I had to come to terms with the fact that nothing will be. 

There’s a certain aspect of clay that no one can really teach you. You have to form an understanding of its limits and boundaries, while still having the confidence to push them. 

No one really thought I could pull off making that dragon head, at least not in the way I had envisioned it. But I did, because I pushed the boundaries of what I could create. 

And that is what sculpture means to me. 

Pushing boundaries. Creating the unexpected. Taking a vision and making it a reality in such a tangible form.

No other medium can achieve that effect. And the satisfaction I get from achieving what I had set my mind to is a feeling unmatched by anything else.

I love the sense of pride I have over my sculptures regardless of if they’re perfect or not, because I know what it took to make it, and that remains a mystery to most. 

Sculpture is something of a forgotten art form. It’s so much more than vases and mugs, and I prove that through every piece I make because I create art meant to be noticed and appreciated. And by doing so I hope that people realize that art can be more than what they think it is.