In a backyard shed set amidst Byron Bay’s lush Hinterlands, potter, Lauren is sitting still at last. She is staring at her hands, immersed in wonderment of the story they tell & what they’ve become. The once manicured hands typing for Sydney’s financial elite, are no longer her reality. Working her way through the daily battle vs the ‘raison d’etre’. Monotony, now a thing of the past.
Lauren’s hands tell her story. Just looking at them, she can relive her thirty-something year journey. The stumbles, the falls, the entrances and the exists. Now, the earth resting within each line in her skin grounds her. Being muddied is her greatest meditation & she has discovered her most humbling force.
“My hands… They are scratched, beaten, un-kept, and aged from the sun’s harsh kiss. But they’re my inspiration. These well-loved hands are my greatest tools driving against the inundation of the mass produced, creating pieces never to be exactly replicated. This practice gives me such a thrill.”
Growing up on the Northern Beaches of Sydney means that she has never lived far away from the oceans playground. The aesthetic foundation is akin to its simplicities & the tumult of its mighty harmonies. In everyday life she grows more attentive to silence, sitting still & being aware of the universal rhythms. Inspiration growing from the small things & all that being in-situ has to offer her.