I make woodfired pottery and sculptural tiles. I dig several local
stoneware clays and fire my wood kilns longer and hotter than is considered wise.
The compulsive and inefficient nature of the woodfire process connects
me closely to the earth. I dig local clays. I fire using trees from our forest.
I submit the work to my kiln to be reborn as a permanent object that records
the touch of my hands and the fire and ash that have transformed it.
I control choices of clays, shapes, glazes, kiln structure, type of
wood, stacking method, duration and temperature of the firing. But I must
also give up control to violent forces of nature. The wood kiln is not a tame
beast. It gives me accidents and blessings. I find beauty in imperfection.