By chance, I witnessed the throwing of a substantial porcelain vase, in the Spring of 1991. It was magic. The clay moved upward with a pleasing curve that seemed unstoppable; the potter’s hands looked to be guiding only.

My mouth probably hung open. As someone who had always been drawn toward the process of constructing buildings, stone walls, and furniture, my mind churned with new possibilities.

But eight years of practice on a potter’s wheel passed before there was the confidence to complete most common forms.

Shape and form from nature appeal to me. And the love of these pieces comes, in part, from the monotony of being surrounded by mass-produced goods. I'm compelled to make pieces that will please the jaded eye.

And those who choose a vase or bowl because it speaks to them, calls out to be touched, weighed in hand, and filled, may not know the why of it.