Every piece of art I make begins with a story. Whether I find it in myth, religion, psychology or a scrawl of graffiti, story drives me as an artist and gives me the energy to transform blocks of clay into sculptures, often life-sized.

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I don’t choose stories so much as they choose me. When they do, words intermingle with images in my head, and I record both with quick scribbles and sketches. If a story grabs me with urgency, I might start a piece of art the same day; other times I return to ideas years later.

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The figure is my vessel – typically human, sometimes animal. Usually I make the complete figure, but sometimes I just make the head as the center of emotion and communication. Gesture, expression and interaction are my vocabulary. Repetition and collage are my chapters and verses. Clay is my medium, sometimes combined with found objects that carry their own stories.

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I build my pieces completely by hand, using stiff slabs and hand-formed coils. My style is an abstracted realism that generally follows human proportion, but from which I freely deviate, and I love to leave traces of handbuilding and other “imperfections.” I am drawn to glazes and surfaces that quieten and unify the pieces.

My artwork, like me, is often called quiet. I hope that my art is soulful and meaningful. If it is, then I have accomplished what I set out to do as an artist.