Since very young, I knew I wanted to be involved in the arts in some capacity.  From coloring books, (frustrated I could never stay inside the lines) to sidewalk chalk drawings, to play dough, (my God, play dough!) I would spend hours on end creating; thinking I was great.  At least my mother said I was.

 It wasn't until much later, I found clay; grown-up play dough.  I was attracted immediately.  Especially hand-building.  Unlike wood or stone or plaster, clay is relatively forgiving. Mistakes become stages of evolution.  This is not to say clay doesn't have its own temperament.  The properties of clay and the fact it's an organic substance gives it a personality and is therefore subject to it's own dispositions.  If the mood ring reads black, it's best to just back away and go find a nice coloring book.

 The subjects I choose and the process of raku-firing are aspects of my work that have evolved over time.  The animals I select have certain distinctions which lend themselves to my style.  Simplicity in design and a touch of personification, brought together with the organic nature of raku brings the creatures to life.

 People ask me, "Do you like animals?"  Initially my response was, "Who doesn't?", but after some thought, I realized I do like animals.  But it's more than that.  Respect. Awe. Fear?  To say you just "like" animals is to trivialize their stature.  I think they deserve more.  All I can do is couple these feelings with the animal's natural splendor to try to create something great.  At the very least, my mother will think it is.