I’m based in Álafoss, Iceland, where I create precision-made ceramic pieces rooted in Nordic minimalism and the raw beauty of Icelandic nature.

My work focuses on Japanese snowflake crakle glazes and refined surfaces — exploring the balance between rough texture and luminous depth.

Each cup, plate, and vessel from my Lilac Steel and Jökla collections is crafted with purpose, designed to be both functional and contemplative — a reflection of the quiet strength I see in Iceland’s landscapes.

I was born in to clay.

I was born in Latvia, a place of forests, rivers, and quiet craftsmanship. My childhood was simple — shaped by the rhythm of making things by hand and by the patience that real work requires.

When I moved to Iceland, I found a land that felt both foreign and familiar. The silence, and the slow pace of life reminded me of home — yet challenged me to see beauty differently. Here, I learned to value space, texture, and stillness. Iceland taught me that less can truly be more.

Pottery runs in my family. Both my parents are potters, and so were their parents before them. I grew up surrounded by clay, kilns, and shelves filled with forms waiting to be fired. From an early age, I understood that craftsmanship isn’t about speed — it’s about listening to the material and accepting its unpredictability.

Today, I continue that tradition, working mainly with stoneware and developing refined dining ware with Japanese snowflake crackle glazes. Each piece I make is an attempt to capture balance — between control and chance, simplicity and depth, tradition and modern design.

My work is not about decoration. It’s about use — about creating objects that become part of daily life. I believe true beauty lies in honesty: in natural materials, quiet tones, and the mark of the maker’s hand.

Each cup and bowl carries a fragment of my journey — the discipline of my Latvian roots and the calm strength of Iceland. Together they form a dialogue between earth and fire, between past and present.

When held, they are more than objects — they are moments of stillness, shaped by the hands of time.