Artist Statement     

     I grew up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  It is the area that attracted the Amish to settle and establish a farm-based community due to the rich soil.  Each winter I would watch the earth lie dormant for months. In the springtime it was awakened for a new season of growth by teams of mule led plows turning under the winter-crusted soil.  Flocks of birds would follow on the heels of the teams feeding on the abundance of grubs and insects revealed by the plow blades.  Watching this each spring and the growth that followed I became tied to the earth.  I have tended a garden of one sort or another for as long as I can remember because I have a desire to have my hands in the earth.
It only seemed natural that I found myself working in clay as I grew older.  I work in clay because of the connection that it gives me to the earth.  I am attracted to the connections that my finished work makes with other people.  Making strong functional pieces that become a part of someone’s life is an underlying motivation in my work.  The potential shift in the level of consciousness of the user is something that I find incredibly compelling.  We live in an age where machines have replaced many of the handmade objects, which previously added richness to our lives, with objects devoid of meaning.  I feel the shift in consciousness occurs because something of who I am comes out in every pot, and I believe that many people want to connect with that.        t.

      
 
 		      I am interested in placing a piece in a specific context and questioning what that context adds to the work.  While some of my pieces take on a sculptural quality, it is important to me that they remain functional.  In many cases the space that exists between pieces is as important as the pieces themselves in establishing a connection with the user.  The bases, or nests, for some of my cups come from a variety of natural sources.  When the piece is removed I want there to be a point on the base that calls to mind the absence of that piece or the absence of an interaction with someone.  I find that absence compelling, much like the afterimages of Andy Goldsworthy into which I find myself drawn.  Forms and images from the natural world draw me in each day as I walk around.  I strive to see better each day so I can allow these things to seep into my work
 

I work in clay because it continually asks questions of me.  What does it mean to be an American potter in the 21st century?  As a full time ceramics teacher I also believe that the search for answers allows me to ask better questions of my students, yet another reason that I find clay rewarding.  Contexts become platforms that present pieces and raise interesting questions for me.  How does it affect the function of the piece?  Does it turn it into something ceremonial that changes the way the user interacts with the piece?  Does it change the viewer's perception of the piece?  How can I affect change in someone with my work?  Each day questions like these keep me investigating my ties to the earth and humanity.