I have a love-hate relationship with my art.
I love the human form. It beguiles me, it frustrates me, and it inspires me. I want to control it, capture it, and preserve it.
I love the potential I can see in my mind for a finished piece. A little moment in time captured forever.
I love the way the clay allows me to easily experiment -pushing shapes, forms, and shadows.
But I am an impatient man.
I hate the time required to realize the vision – the trial and error, the details of the process. The tedium of creation.
I hate that I am always struggling with myself – fighting for perfection and always, because of my impatience, coming up just short.
I love and hate that I am driven to try again, and again, and again…