Ask most New Zealanders about their first taste of independence, and there's a good chance it involves a dairy and a fistful of coins. Long before pocket money turned into eftpos and grocery runs turned into online orders, the walk to the corner shop with just enough change for a bag of lollies was something close to a rite of passage.

That's the memory sitting at the heart of everything we make.

On the surface, recreating gummy bears, fizzy cola bottles, and bananas in glass and porcelain looks like a purely playful pursuit. But underneath, it's about something quieter – the pull of a memory shared across generations, and now, as the work reaches collectors internationally, across borders too. 

A giant Jetplane isn't really about the lolly at all. It's the Saturday morning dairy run, the school holidays, the feeling of spending your own pocket money for the first time.

Nostalgia runs through everything we make. Not as a passing reference, but as the thread that ties every piece back to a shared memory. It's less a theme we return to and more the reason the work exists at all.