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…