I have
always had vivid dreams, and though I have never been a religious or
superstitious person, I have always believed that my dreams had significance.
The fact that there are large parts of myself that I can’t experience
in waking life is deeply fascinating and disturbing to me, and it motivates
much of my work as an artist.
I think
of the things I make as geological, biological and psychological relics,
as if my mind were a site of excavation. Wet clay records the work of
our hands and reflects the softness of our bodies as well as the plasticity
of our thoughts. When we fire it, it becomes like a fossil—hard, dead
and stony, but with the evidence of a time when it was soft and alive
in someone’s hands. I am attracted to how clay can speak of our living
bodies but at the same time of our mortality and of the span of geologic
time.