Ida Wallin

I’m turning a set of dishes I call Pion.
Plate by plate. Bowl by bowl.

I think of the table as a place where everyday life comes together.
Where plates are filled and emptied again.
Where conversations linger a moment.

In the clay, I search for shapes that can bear more than their function.
Traces of my hands.
Traces of time.

I make everyday objects for recurring moments.
For meals we share.
For the simplicity in sitting together around a table.