The Clay

I make clay in an old bathtub in a clearing in the woods. Like a cake, the dry ingredients are mixed thoroughly first. After adding water, I climb in the tub and stir the clay with my feet until it reaches a moist, batter-like consistency. I bail the clay into a rabbit hutch to dry. Finally, the clay is prepared by wedging, pictured here.

The Wheel

I form the pots on a low-momentum kick wheel. I center the clay and form the pots. Water lubricates the surface of the clay; it feels cool and alive like a fish in a brook. I use small hand tools made of wood, rubber, and bamboo to finish the surface of the pots. Here I smooth the interior of a serving bowl before separating it from the wheel with a twisted wire.

The Kiln

My kiln is my editor.
I find firing with wood very hard to do. It takes all my effort to collect the wood, to cut it, split it, stack it, and protect it from the weather. It takes all my effort to organize my crew and lead them through a firing. The prospect of complete exhaustion prompts me to fire the best pots I can muster. Are these pots worth the exertion and the sweat? I must insure that they are. The wood kiln holds me to my highest standard of creativity and skill.

The Artist

Every tool and process, every minute characteristic of the clay and glazes inform each pot. But equally essential are the potter's knowledge and touch. Every trip to the museum, every pot considered and used effect my standards and hopes for the next pots I will make. All the physical objects I have lifted and carried and touched constitute a wealth of knowledge about weight and texture. All these experiences inform the choices I make as a potter. Although each pot spends only a few minutes in transformation from solid lump to vessel, each pot contains a life time of aesthetic experience, interest, and striving.