We live in a land of stolen innocence. Although long estranged by wisdom from our roots, we are not wholly lost. The human soul was once on open display in the gods we made and the stories we told. In these dark times, our job is to wake up those dreams and retell the stories. Perhaps, we can still find the joy and resilience we need to save that bit of the world that remains to us.

Rooted in the potter’s tradition, each sculpture begins as a hollow form. There are no armatures. The figures themselves are hollow. The process involves imagining the shapes inside, and then pressing against the interior walls until the imagined being arrives at the surface in a believable human form. I also use shapes from the potter’s wheel or made from clay slabs to build up worlds for the figures to occupy.

Each sculpture tells a story. Often, it begins with a head that provides me with a character. As I continue to work on the body, I look for clues leading to the figure’s identity. Other times, I start with a base, or two feet, and work upward. In either case, the sculpture and I tell each other where we are going while we are busy getting there. “There” is a place Tolkien or Swift would have recognized, peopled by beings who remind us of ourselves and our grandeur in the face of adversity.