I see, hear and smell... the straight tall trees of Vancouver Island, the churning clouds of a winter storm, the piercing line of the prairie horizon next to the jagged sketch of the Rocky Mountains, the whirling crash of the waters on the Eastern shores, the snatching lift of flames making ash... these push me into the rhythm of clay, turning it into objects that will partake in the everyday rituals of life. This is my chance to aim to be like God without stepping into blasphemy...
I CHOOSE TO MAKE
