My process often begins with seeing and acknowledging a material, a method or a need.
The process of slab construction for hand built clay vessels, or the memory of my father’s leather postal service bag, or a proper place to put a bar of soap.
I identify and translate the most essential characteristics that carry through the spirit of the original thought: the smooth yet slightly uneven surface of the clay, the raw edges of the leather, the right weight of the thing and a place for water to drain.
Other thoughts creep in, sometimes mundane or strange or beautiful visual elements that inform the texture, palette or contour of a curve that feel well-suited to this particular piece. A dead tree branch, a Japanese tea cup, burnt paper, a broken edge of slate, a staircase, the shadows and light at 6:18 pm in September.
I use it for a period of time, mentally refining details - getting rid of anything fussy, adding in something I hadn’t considered. Or if things work well, I leave it as it was initially conceived.
I make a prototype. It has to be a wonderful yet practical experience to use it.
Then I determine the best process for making many, remaining open to inspiration for my next creation.
