Before the Storm

This vase, in shades of cream and earthy speckled brown, bursts upward in an almost wild motion, like soil whose edges have been lifted by the wind, or a sea caught in a single instant of roiling. Its lines are irregular, its edges torn and raw, as if wind and water conspired together to shape it.

The meeting of white and speckled brown resembles heavy clouds dipping into a swirl of dust — that charged moment just before the sky opens and releases its burden. There is a tension between its sturdy, grounded body, reminiscent of rock or ancient tree trunks, and its free, outward-reaching edges, like buds eager to bloom or a wave collapsing.

It captures that breathless moment when the air seems to pause, the whole world waits — and the heart beats faster.
“Before the Storm” invites us to remember that this silence is not empty; it is full of potential, of hidden trembling, of the promise of new life carried by the first drops of rain.