I draw the plates from the inside out, following the lines and direction of the clay, using brushes, sponges and other simple tools to layer up marks and strokes, listening for when enough is enough.

When I make them, I think of shadows, of water rippling, of leaves shaking in the wind, the weathering of surfaces and layering of events, flickering flames, memories of our ancestors. I think of the Pagan, shamanic process, of earth worship, bone history, reconnecting, and also of the mindful moment, the Zen, the breath, the space around. 

It reminds me of when I was a child and I would listen to the wind in the trees, or the faraway waves on the shore, trying to hear what they were saying.