When I stepped back into the studio (which had been lovingly set up, then actively ignored) I was unprepared for the struggle involved in regaining and then pushing my skills, learning a new process and which materials would work in a vastly different studio (tiny, no running water), and, frankly, what to make. That first year was a matter of sheer willpower, spending at least two hours a day in the studio, whether I accomplished anything or not.  

During that time period, I looked to my own back yard (both literally, and the Cape generally) as a source of inspiration. I developed a vocabulary of form and design that allowed me to enjoy the rhythm of the process. My thrown forms are tight and structured, serving to play against the active, colorful carving of my surface decoration. My work uses images of plants and sea creatures as graphic, simplified elements, designed to fit the form in a way that creates as much visual interest in the ground, or negative space, as in the image itself.

Really, though, I just enjoy working with clay. Starting with that unformed lump and working it, step by step, to the point where you let it go to the fire gods, and wait expectantly for it to reveal itself.