The elements of earth, water and fire are intrinsic when working with ceramic materials. Clay is a wonderful, luscious, malleable, strong substance. Its essence is the basis of my exploration whether sculptural or functional in nature. Clay can become so soft that it turns to liquid and yet when dry, can hold virtually any shape. Between those extremes, it can be made to look rocky, soft, smooth, hard, rough, sand‐like. Even after over 40 years of working with this material, I still marvel at those possibilities.
Fire is necessary to bring the clay piece to its fruition. Being up close and personal to the fire, as with raku firing, removing hot pieces from the kiln to further process the glaze is a very elemental experience. Without fire, clay would be porous and could disintegrate back into the earth from where it came. With fire, clay becomes permanent and hard like a rock. The method and temperature of the fire, the glazes used and nature of their application all contribute to the outcome.
Walking through the woods at Kejimkujik National Park; standing on rocks along the seashore at Polly’s Cove; sitting at a window in Tatamagouche with a vista that stretches miles out toward the Northumberland coast and PEI beyond; hiking through the Sonoran desert of Arizona, staring up at giant saguaro cacti and traversing mountain ridges under deep blue skies and warm sun; watching clouds and fog roll into Halifax Harbour; looking out a window in north end Halifax through tree branches, onto houses. Ordinary yet extraordinary feasts for the eye and the mind’s eye. They are only some of the inspirations behind the ceramic wall pieces that I have worked on over the past several years. It is all about process with these various forming and texturizing methods — stretching, pulling, pinching, poking, pounding, sculpting — that I create these clay wall pieces.



