As tired of a cliche as it may seem, process is very important to me as an artist and I am drawn always to the ritual nature of making. It satisfies some deep part of my mind and brings me absolute happiness. Each of my pieces is one of a kind. I throw the pot, I trim it, I draw out my image in a sketch book and then I sgraffito and screen print each image by hand. I use latex and wax resists to glaze patterns that interlock with my imagery. It's tedious. My eyes get tired and my hands cramp. Perhaps the whole thing is a little bit masochistic, I'm unsure. But I do it anyway. Why? Because each finished piece is a small celebration, followed by the strong desire to make another. I relish the quiet moments that I have alone with my clay, carving and drawing. I enjoy watching miniature portraits of my psyche materialize on the surface of the clay, and then slowly evolve toward independence. As each piece matures I am always surprised by its trajectory. I make for selfish reasons, and in the end I want for my pots what every mother wants for her children. I hope that they end up beautiful, successful, smart and smartly dressed, and of course- fabulously wealthy.