The work I make is my soliloquy of simpler times. I turn the soil.
I plant the seeds.
I grow the wheat.

I harvest the grain. I grind the flour.
I trade for the salt. I collect the water. I knead the dough. I coax the fire.

I bake the bread.
Nourishment comes in many forms-labor, vulnerability, connectedness, desire. The vessels of clay I make are for sustenance. They are a document of my intent and a signifier of my connection to this life, both past and present. Having the hand present in my work is critical. It is through the element of touch I am able to honor honesty, vibrancy, energy, and humility.