Why I Name My Ceramics Like People (and Not “White Vase #3”)

There’s something a bit flat about calling a piece “white vase #3.” It tells you what it is, but not who it is. And that’s the difference I care about.

When I finish a piece, I don’t feel like I’ve made “a vase” or “a box.” I feel like I’ve met something. It has its own balance, its own quirks, sometimes even a slightly odd personality. Giving it a human name just makes sense. It’s a way of recognising that it’s not repeatable, and not interchangeable with the next piece.

Not just objects, but characters

My work sits somewhere between functional and sculptural. Some pieces are handcrafted ceramic vases with intricate designs, others are more clearly unique sculptural ceramics inspired by natural forms. But all of them start the same way, with clay being pushed, pulled, and coaxed into something that feels alive.

That’s why naming matters. “Clara” tells you more than “small white vase.” “Arthur” has a presence that “lidded box” doesn’t quite capture.

Where the forms come from

Most of my pieces lean into sculptures with organic designs. Forms tend to evolve as I go, often influenced by natural shapes, movement, and texture rather than anything rigid or overly planned.

That’s also why no two pieces behave the same way in the kiln. Glazes move, pool, break, and surprise me. The result is always slightly unpredictable, which adds to that sense that each piece has its own identity.

The smaller pieces

I also make ceramic keepsake boxes, sometimes just to challenge myself with the technical process. I love sculpted animal motifs or subtle surface details that reveal themselves over time. These tend to be quieter pieces, but they still carry that same idea. They’re not just containers. They hold small things, yes, but they also hold a bit of character.

And again, it feels odd to leave them unnamed. A keepsake box called “Box #7” doesn’t quite do the job.

Why naming feels right

Giving each piece a human name is a probably a little odd. It’s certainly not what I’m “SUPPOSED” TO DO, but that’s probably why I partly like it. It moves it away from being just another product and closer to something you choose because it feels right for your space.

I tend to think my pieces work best in small groupings, almost like a family. A few together can create a conversation in a room, rather than just filling a gap on a shelf.

So instead of “white vase #3,” you might meet Eleanor, sitting next to Thomas and June. It’s a different way of seeing ceramics, and for me, a more honest one.