Laguna: Inspired by Indonesian Lagoons

Translating Indonesian Lagoons into Handmade Ceramics

Growing Up Surrounded by Water

I grew up in Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia, an archipelago of more than 17,000 islands scattered between volcanic lines and coral kingdoms. Growing up there means growing up surrounded by water. The sea is never truly far away.

Indonesia is also home to some of the most remarkable lagoons in the world. Their beauty comes from a unique meeting between water, geology, movement, and light.

Some lagoons are formed by coral reefs growing like living walls around islands. Over time, these natural barriers create calmer and shallower waters inside, resulting in crystal-clear lagoons with soft ripples, almost like glass breathing under the sun.

Others are born from volcanic landscapes. Indonesia sits on the Pacific Ring of Fire, where volcanic islands slowly rise, erode, and transform over time. Seawater fills these lower areas, creating dramatic contrasts between mineral-rich land and luminous water.

There are also coastal lagoons shaped by waves and currents depositing sand along the shoreline. Their borders constantly shift, blurring the line between land and sea.

Photo © Kireyonok Yuliya - Magnific.com

Photo © wirestock - Magnific.com

The Atmosphere of Indonesian Lagoons

What makes Indonesian lagoons so special to me is not only their color, but their atmosphere.

The shallow water reflects light endlessly, creating glowing turquoise gradients. The surface is never completely still. Ripples move softly with the wind, reflections shift throughout the day, and volcanic minerals subtly deepen the palette of the landscape.

They feel like spaces in transition.
Places where movement, light, and texture coexist quietly together.

Beyond their geological formation, Indonesian lagoons also hold deeply personal memories for me.

I still remember sitting on the sandy shores of lagoons without my earphones or my phone, simply listening to the waves reaching the beach.

I could spend hours watching the reflection of sunlight dancing on the surface of the water. Nothing ever felt completely still. The light kept moving, the ripples kept shifting, and the landscape constantly transformed itself depending on the hour of the day.

What stayed with me most was not only the beauty of these places, but the feeling they created. A quiet sense of movement, calmness, and depth all at once.

Translating Water into Ceramics

When I started imagining Laguna, I asked myself a simple question:

How could I translate these sensations into handmade ceramics?

This is where the experimentation began.

I started exploring different glaze combinations, application methods, and clay textures to see how surfaces could react to light and movement. I wanted the pieces to feel fluid, mineral, and alive, almost like fragments of shifting landscapes.

Some tests felt too shallow. Others dripped far more than intended. Some pieces simply did not survive the kiln.

Slowly, I realized that Laguna could not rely on a single glaze alone. The collection only started to feel alive when multiple layers interacted together, creating movement, translucency, and mineral variations across the surface.

Combined with textured clay bodies, these superpositions started to evoke islands, coastlines, and water landscapes across each piece.

When Ceramics Start Behaving Like Landscapes

One of the aspects I love most about ceramics is that part of the process always remains unpredictable.

Glazes move differently depending on thickness, temperature, placement in the kiln, and even the clay underneath. No two pieces ever react in exactly the same way.

The more I worked on Laguna, the more I realized that ceramics and lagoons shared something in common: neither can be completely controlled.

Both are shaped by movement, transformation, and unexpected reactions.

In many ways, this unpredictability reminded me of lagoons themselves. Always moving. Always shifting. Never completely fixed.