Why me? Why clay?

Because clay—not paint, not print and, god, not algebra—was what did the calling, to me. To play in the mud and let my fingers do the talking. A vocation that calls out loud for constant management and control. Obsessive attention. Making pots and other stuff—all handmade, all a little different. When I’m done, I clean up pretty good. This is how I’m built.

Welcome to my barn.