When I first started my journey into visual arts (specifically, ceramics), I realized that the story and inspiration behind the piece are just as important as the artwork itself. As someone who creates abstract, minimalist ceramic art, it took me a while to understand how my pieces could say something without a defined subject, like you’d typically find in a painting, photograph, or figurative sculpture.

When I started planning a new collection a couple of years ago–one that would later become my restless collection–something inside of me clicked. For my style of art, it was less about the literal imagery shown in its design and more about the feeling it evoked. My restless pieces captured a feeling I knew all too well growing up.

what emotion the restless collection captures

This series reflects the feeling of being in-between; when you’re no longer who you used to be, but you haven’t quite grown into who you’re meant to become. It’s that uncomfortable stage of change and growth, when it feels like you’re crawling out of your own skin, eager to move forward into whatever comes next.

Sometimes it’s exciting to know you’re on the path to something new. Other times, it’s the very definition of growing pains.

That feeling is why I called the series “restless.” It’s also why the forms are undulating and organic. They capture that moment just before transformation, when a new version of yourself is pushing against the edges of the old.

why the symbolism is so meaningful to me

As someone who’s constantly learning and evolving, it’s a feeling I’ve carried for most of my life. You feel it deep in your gut and just under your skin.

For most of my life, I’ve always felt a little out of place. Like I was constantly waiting for a defining moment where everything made sense and I was secure. It wasn’t until my mid-30s that I learned I had been living with undiagnosed ADHD and PTSD. Although I had done well managing it on my own and saw a lot of success and positive growth, there was still this underlying sense that I was fighting a battle. I just didn’t know what for.

Throughout my life, I kept reinventing myself, too. I love learning new things and was drawn toward experiences that helped me grow, whether through independent study, travel, or packing my bags and moving to an entirely new state with no plan. There was always a moment before every big life decision where I’d get that tingle under my skin. The sign that it was time to take a chance and move forward.

Sometimes I knew what I was supposed to do and had clear direction. But many times, I was just going by feeling and intuition. Little did I know that my ADHD and PTSD were quietly pushing me toward a life that felt more authentic to who I really was. It was only after my diagnosis that I understood how my brain worked, why I moved through life differently, and why I kept cycling through these periods of transformation.

Once I understood it, I realized I was trying to unlearn things that kept me boxed in and weren't right for who I was or how I wanted to live. With each change, I let go of the “normal” societal expectations and took another step closer to who I’m meant to be.

I think this will be a constant process I’ll go through for the rest of my life, but I’m happy to share that I’ve felt more like myself than I ever have.

how this has evolved my collection

Prior to my ceramic art career, I was a novelist. I wrote women’s fiction where a woman is at a crossroads in her life and she needs to make a bold decision to move forward. 90% of the time, I later realized I was subconsciously addressing my own challenges through my books. It was only after I read the first draft that I realized how I felt about something. And half the time, the answer on how to deal with it was right there on the pages.

The same thing happened with my restless collection. I’ve always known what it felt like to be on the cusp of change, but something about visualizing it through my sculptures helped me connect with it in a more meaningful way. More importantly, it showed me that even though the feeling can be uncomfortable and overwhelming, there’s beauty in it too. It’s a reminder that something new is taking shape and that better things are often just on the other side. 

I don’t feel scared of it anymore. What once was painful now also feels hopeful and exciting. My collection has primarily been in neutrals because it represented the feelings people keep hidden within themselves. Subtle and quiet. However, now that I also see this restlessness can represent positive moments, I’m curious if it evolves the color palette to incorporate that new sense of excitement for the future.

As I’ve continued building this collection over the last couple of years, I’ve finally started understanding the truth behind this feeling, and that’s a beautiful thing.

See Ashley’s available restless pieces here and follow her journey on Instagram.