When I work in miniature I love that I am not only creating art, but also an illusion of something larger, of a different time, or something unattainable to me in full scale. In miniature we can recreate small worlds of the past, or even an alternative to the present, something that is awfully tempting, considering the state of the world.
As miniaturists, we create objects somewhere in between toys and art. The look of joy, awe, and satisfaction on my viewer’s faces is one of the most rewarding experiences of my daily existence. It is every artist's dream to communicate effectively with viewers, and I feel that my art communicates without saying much at all.
I have also found that working in miniature sets me free from many limitations that I found paralyzing in full scale. As a perfectionist and a potter, I nurtured a very full “ceramic graveyard” in my backyard where I would destroy pots I didn’t like. I was torn: I hated creating so much physical waste with these shards of pottery and also so much energy waste I spent firing kilns to try to create something worth keeping. The result was playing it safe in form and surface design. Experimenting proved too much of a risk both in material cost to me as well as environmental impact.
Working in miniature, I have so much more creative freedom to experiment. My kiln is half a square foot in size and I fire it every two months on average, saving copious amounts of energy. I can invest in a variety and small amounts of glaze; pints will last me a year. I use mere grams of clay to create my vessels and am able to use every crumb of porcelain. My studio practice is based on efficiency and tedious attention to detail.
The trade-off: my eyes will probably go bad before I reach thirty.