From Baltic Summers to Irish Shores
For as long as I can remember, the sea has always been my refuge. Growing up in Poland, I spent many summers by the Baltic Sea where family holidays were filled with the gentle rhythm of the waves and the joy of collecting seashells along the shore. Those summers felt warm, safe and timeless. The sea became a place of calm, a space to slow down and reconnect. I could always count on the waves’ steady movement to comfort me, a natural soundtrack that soothed my mind and made everything feel a little lighter. To this day, the sound of the sea still quiets my thoughts like nothing else.
When I moved to Ireland, I didn’t expect that the sea would once again play such a central role in my life. But it did. From my early days in Dublin to Portmarnock and now Skerries, I have always lived within reach of the coast. The pull to be near the water has never left me. Over the years, I have spent countless hours walking along the beach, watching the light change on the surface of the water and feeling the breeze carry away the rush of everyday life.
Family Bonds and the Sea’s Rhythm
My children grew up with the sea too. We spent long afternoons collecting shells and pebbles, letting the waves lap over our feet, and making memories that were unplanned and perfect. Those moments still live in my work. The joy of exploring the coastline with small hands in mine, noticing the patterns in a shell or the lines on a piece of driftwood. These details, this close observation of nature, continue to shape the way I look at materials and texture today.
There is something deeply grounding about the sea. I often find myself just sitting and watching it. The waves are always in motion, yet the rhythm feels predictable. It is never the same, and yet it never truly changes. That quiet contradiction is something I find deeply inspiring. The sea is timeless but never still. This balance between constancy and transformation is something I think about often, both in life and in the studio.
Clay, Water, and Creative Translation
Swimming in the sea always feels like being held. The water wraps around you gently but completely. It’s a sensation that reminds me of the feeling of clay in my hands. Clay too is soft but strong, pliable yet full of memory. The connection between the two is hard to explain but very real. Both demand presence. Both allow you to shape something in the moment, without rushing.
This is why the Irish coastline has become such a strong influence in my ceramics. Its colours, textures and rhythms find their way into everything I make. The sandy hues of the shoreline, the cool greys of sea-smoothed stone, the freckles that appear on my clay like grains of sand – all these references are carried through the materials I choose and the way I work. The coast reminds me to move slowly, to pay attention, to let each piece evolve with time.
My clay itself contains these stories. It has a warm sandy tone with dark speckles that feel like freckles left by the sun. I choose it intentionally, not just for how it looks, but for how it feels and for what it evokes. My forms are simple but full of texture. I often leave fingerprints and tool marks visible, not as flaws but as reminders of the hand that shaped them. Just as the sea leaves traces on stone and shells, I leave mine on the pieces I make.
Embracing Change and Craft
Time spent on the coast also taught me patience. You cannot rush the tide. You cannot rush clay either. Both require stillness and trust. Each piece I make moves through stages of shaping, drying, bisque firing and glazing. It takes days or sometimes weeks. There is no shortcut. And just like the coastline, it teaches me to let go of control. Sometimes a wave takes your favourite shell. Sometimes a kiln changes your glaze. You learn to work with it, not against it.
I also love how the sea invites attention. You might pass the same beach every day, but one morning the tide has brought in something new. A pattern in the sand, a twist of seaweed, the colour of the sky reflected on the water. These small, quiet changes are what make the familiar feel magical. I want my ceramics to offer that same experience. They are everyday objects – mugs, bowls, plates – but they carry detail and variation. No two are the same. Just like no two walks on the beach are the same.
The coastline gives me a language that goes beyond words. Texture, tone, repetition, rhythm. These are the elements I return to again and again in my work. They form the quiet backbone of my creative process. I want my pieces to feel like an invitation to slow down, to hold something that feels grounding and beautiful, to find joy in small rituals, the first sip of tea, the light on a breakfast plate, and the pause before dinner begins.
Sustainable Stories and Shared Rituals
Being close to the sea also deepened my commitment to sustainability. The coastline is beautiful, but also fragile. It asks us to take care of it. In my own practice, I try to tread lightly. I recycle my clay. I reuse packaging donated by my local community. I make in small batches and never rush production. The natural world is generous with inspiration and I want to respond with respect.
When I look at my ceramics, I see the sea on every surface. It’s in the forms shaped slowly by hand, the earthy clay full of freckles, the soft curves that echo pebbles and shells. My work doesn’t aim to replicate the coast literally. It translates it. It holds its essence in a way that can be felt not just seen.
I often imagine the people who will use my pieces. I hope they too are soothed by the shape of a bowl or the way a cup feels in their hands. I hope they notice the textures, the marks, the irregularities. I don’t see them as imperfections but stories, just like the coastline, shaped over time by wind, water and care.
TL;DR:
The Irish seaside continues to inspire me every day. It reminds me to slow down. To look closely. To stay curious. It is where I go when I need clarity or calm. And through my handmade ceramics, I try to pass on some of that feeling, the sense of standing by the shore, breathing deeply, and remembering what matters most.
The Irish coastline has shaped not only where I live, but how I create. The textures of sand, the rhythm of the waves, and the calm they bring are all woven into my ceramics. Each piece is inspired by slow moments spent near the sea – timeless, grounding and always changing. I hope my work carries some of that quiet with it, into your home.