My name is Yamine :) I’m an artist and photographer based in London. My pottery story began in 2021 during lockdown after I lost my beautiful mum to breast cancer before I turned 30. Having lost my dad when I was 8 years old, also to cancer, I was very attached to my mum and the grief was unbearable. In an effort to help me heal through creativity, I taught myself how to make ceramics at home. I grew fascinated at how I could make a functional piece with just my hands but importantly I also soon realised that it was helping heal my grief by becoming an outlet for my pain. My thoughts spiralled less when I was creating and I felt joy again, which I didn’t think was achievable. It’s since become one of the biggest loves of my life; everyone who owns one of my ceramics has a very special piece of my heart and healing journey in their home. I draw inspiration for my pieces from my personal life stories as well as my love for experimentation with colour and form. I hope my story will inspire those struggling to keep believing.

Eid marks the end of Ramadan, a holy month in which muslims across the world fast from dawn to sunset daily. It’s a profound and reflective time in our calendar as we focus on fostering more gratitude and empathy. I always come away from Ramadan feeling infinitely more grateful for not just access to food and water but for the everyday ‘’boring’’ moments of  joy too, things we call ‘’normal’’ such as a walk in the sun, a roof over my head, a warm bed, the ability to create for a living.

As I work freelance, beautiful last minute gatherings and decisions are much more common for me but that doesn’t take away how special those occasions are.

I make a bangin’ fattoush, my family all love and request that I make it, it’s a type of salad very popular in the Levant. We usually have a beautiful table full of comforting Levantine food :)

I wouldn’t say so, we’re a very foodie orientated family and culture so we don’t need a special reason or occasion to create great food.

Patience most definitely, as a ceramicist patience is a huge factor in my work as creating ceramics is a long multi-faceted process which I deeply enjoy. Ramadan mostly teaches me to be more empathetic and grateful for the privilege I experience in my day to day life.

I’m at a very happy stage in my journey with ceramics now where I’m able to freely express my vulnerability and grief in my work. It’s a very organic process, my heart ultimately leads the way to what I want to create and vocalise with my work and my brain then tries to find out how to achieve it in the most respectful way. Having lost both of my parents, it’s normal that my work is very emotional and evocative because ultimately my heart is seeking comfort in creation, however it did take me a few years to find the confidence to share this grief through my art with others.

Customers often share the reasons and meaningful stories behind why they bought a specific piece from me (for either themselves or a loved one) which always makes me deeply emotional. I’m honoured when anyone buys something from me because it’s a small part of my soul.

I think there is an assumption that creating art for a living is all bells and whistles. There is an insane amount of admin and organisation that goes on behind the scenes, especially if you work alone like I do. Self discipline is integral to allow it to be a rewarding practice for you. I don’t ever want creating art to feel like a ‘’chore’’ to me, especially as it’s so extensively  linked to my grief so there is a lot I do to protect myself from burnout.

I’m working on multiple ceramic collections at the same time, one of which is named ‘’Together’’ and focuses on the connection between different cultures and languages around the world. The colours, textures and sense of renewal felt through spring is exciting me greatly :)