A Burning Leaf

Burning Leaf is one of my first explorations in pottery, a medium I’ve wanted to dive into for years. As someone who has always been drawn to both light and handcraft, I wanted to merge these two passions into a single piece: a luminaire shaped entirely by touch, detail, and intention.

The form is carved with layered leaf patterns, each cut revealing the technical details of the clay and the sensitivity of the hand that shaped it. When the candle inside is lit, the light spills through these openings and casts leaf-shaped shadows across the surrounding surfaces. The illumination curves and stretches, almost as if the leaves themselves are in the process of burning, alive with movement, yet the object remains still and quiet.

When the flame goes out, the luminaire becomes almost lifeless, like a fallen leaf returning to the earth. It sits in a state of rest, waiting, empty, its form no longer animated by light. But once it glows again, even in its “burning,” it comes back to life. Its patterns scatter across the room, adapting to whatever they touch, creating new temporary artworks shaped by light, shadow, and space.

The candle inside acts as the heart of the piece, small, dim, but powerful. Its movement responds to the energy of the room: footsteps, voices, breath. It is reactive, alive, and unpredictable, just like a real burning leaf caught in a stir of air.

The work symbolizes the quiet urgency of beauty, how something becomes most compelling when it is fragile and temporary. Burning Leaf is a reminder that moments of interest, passion, and inspiration don’t last forever, so we have to catch them, appreciate them, and make something from them while they exist.