Process

It begins on bended knee. Then, the rhythm of my working: gather, wash, coil, pinch, polish, fire. Shaping the earth with my hands and heart I am both holding and being held. Each time I cycle through each step of my process I realize (again) it is in my hands and through my making (not in my mind through my thinking) where deep and true connection dawns. Through the intimacy that grows in the silent dialogue of my studio practice I come to respect the fragile, vulnerable moments of what it is to trust and harmonize. Over time I have come to realize how such resonance is essential and increasingly valuable in these intensified, unprecedented times.

My process is physical, mental and spiritual, supported through historical, emotional and technical aspects. The craft of art - the foundation of technical ability transformed into unique creative voice - provides me an essential connection to our planet across time. My making is slow, meditative, tender and deeply satisfying. As I process and build I recognize how much has been forgotten and lost and how much continues to be neglected and overlooked. Every day I am profoundly grateful for the the gifts of being taught how to remember and the ability to respectfully share.

The many stepped processes of hand-gathering and hand-processing material  — traveling to the site; the intentionality and prayer to Mother Earth; the physicality of digging, carrying, stirring, washing, straining, wedging; the patience required for the process to complete — all of this before the creating even begins — each is a step towards deepening in relationship and offers valuable insights to the way things operate in the world and my place in it. When the firing process is also held in a prayerful way, the act of offering the earth back to herself in the name of "new life" preserves the sacred connection through to each work's completion. This receptive circular process is a healing experience that supports, stays with and integrates into my evolving understandings and conceptualizations. Where my clay works express what I see, my paintings express what I feel — I joyously celebrate in the infinite play of the same “stuff” (earth, water, fire, air, space) in different form.