For me, pottery is an extension of the environment where I grew up, where the archeological past still exists among modern stone building and infinite desert.

Most my work is functional –vessels that at once contain and serve. Since I reclaimed myself as an artist, my work has reflected the colors, patterns and textures of my surroundings, At one time, this meant blues and grays on porcelain; or the greens and earth tones of the rich agricultural valleys of Israel and California. In Montana, and in Wisconsin where I traveled to take part in workshops, I was influenced by the colors of the prairies, the corn and wheatfields, creating rough-textured, wood-fired work in hues of yellow and pale brown.

North Carolina has unsettled me as nothing before. I throw prolifically, experimenting with glazes and glazing effects that can reflect the intense changes of season. And because the new landscape has been so [positively] disruptive to me, I am disrupting my own art, challenging my forms to find new centers, or new shapes, hiding colors in the bottom of mugs, and letting glazes find their own paths, pooling or dripping down the sides of my bowls.

Making pottery is at once a connection with the past and a path through the present to a future I have yet to meet.