“I chose the best pieces from my last kiln load,” she explains, acknowledging the reality behind that choice. “In ceramics, some pieces don’t survive the drying process without cracks, some pieces may crack during the bisque or glaze firing, and some glaze applications don’t turn out successfully.” 

There’s no illusion of mastery here, only an honest engagement with process. “It’s been about a year since I restarted my pottery hobby and I’m still learning!”

That sense of experimentation carries through the work itself. In preparing for her show this month at The Alley Gallery, Krystal leaned into variety, intentionally creating pieces that balance function and form. “I intentionally made a variety of useful pieces, like bowls for eating or serving, with a mix of decorative pieces like vases,” she says. At this stage, exploration is the goal. “Right now, I’m still exploring all kinds of shapes, glazes and colors.”

Her relationship to these objects is personal, but not in an overtly emotional or narrative way. Instead, the connection comes through use and sharing. “They all feel personal to me, as I love to make things and then use them myself, give them away, and now possibly sell them at The Alley – and it’s all a way for me to share something of myself.” 

It’s a grounded, utilitarian perspective, and even within that simplicity, there are quieter layers. One recurring detail – a small red dot – invites curiosity. While it can be appreciated on a purely visual level, it also carries a more personal history. “In some ways it’s just aesthetic – I love a bit of red with light blue especially,” she notes. But the motif didn’t originate in ceramics.

“When I look back at my drawings (as seen in the “Good Grief” exhibit at the Depot Art Center last April), the red accent does make an appearance as my ‘angst’ or grief.” Over time, that meaning has shifted. “I’ve come to see that the red dot signifies that my grief is more contained, organized and smaller now.”

It’s a subtle evolution, one that mirrors her broader approach to ceramics. The work doesn’t announce itself loudly or demand interpretation. Instead, it exists to be handled, used and gradually understood.

In that way, Krystal’s pieces offer something both practical and personal: objects shaped by process, marked by growth and shared with quiet intention.