I wrap carvings around simple ceramic forms. With apartment and studio in an old barn, I am surrounded by history. Walks in nearby woods take me by trees grown through wire fences, crumbling cellar foundations, old stone walls. Sidewalk pieces line the bottom of a stream in a neighboring town park.
Images fill my head as I draw on leather-hard pieces. There are stories in every abandoned cellar hole, each forested stone wall, every clump of field daffodils. Suggestions of these stories fill my head as I start drawing, beginning with a bloom or building, taking a small moon to the ground and placing a larger one over a vine and behind a tree. In carving, I hone form and breathe life into image.