Bottled Up

Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I learned that hiding granted me safety from abuse and ridicule. But with hiding comes fear, a constant gut-punch that slowly eats away at life and the things that make it worth living. These clay vessels, occupying a space between bodies and bottles, are afraid, and they are hiding things. Each one holds a fear on their chest and attempts to contain it within. In one instance, the stress of the firing caused a clean break in the neck, exposing the written-on clay beads within.