For forty-two years I looked for my shape, through sport, travel, code, design, farming. Each one reshaped me a little, then let me go. Underneath it, unnamed, was a searching that never quite stopped.
It found direction in a small alternate-education community in Chandigarh. I went looking for answers for my son. Instead, I found a place that held my questions, not with answers, but with better questions.
Soil was the first grounding. Growing my own food, hands in the mud every day. Then, without much planning, the mud moved from the field to the wheel.
Clay took it from there. It won’t let you finish. It keeps reminding me there’s no final shape to arrive at. Only the process is permanent. The process is the teacher.
— Partinder
I work in small batches, mostly utilitarian ware, made to be held and used. Most of the play is in texture: bare clay, glaze, how much of each a piece gets to keep.
Partinder · pulll
I don’t see ceramics as luxury objects. Their value is in the honesty behind them: the time, care, and attention that go into making them. A piece only pulls you in if it was made with that same pull.
What you take home isn’t just a vessel. It carries a piece of that process, shaped by hand, fired with intention, made to be used, not displayed.
Each piece is a small pulll, पुल / ਪੁਲ, between me and you.