I carve a form that twists, iterates, & erodes; there is no top or bottom.

Fired to 2232 degrees, the clay darkens, hardens, vitrifies -an echoing of stone reformed by swelling ranges & canyons carved through petrified dunes.

The Western landscape is cut into a new object, shaped by cadence, interval, & pressure -the shared language of calligraphy, geology, & music.

This grammar emerges from climbing through sandstone canyons & up narrow ridges -I move through forms & volumes, forms & volumes move through me.

It is a grammar steeped in the rhythms of wildstyle graffiti, the ornament of the Alhambra, the script of the Torah, Arp's biomorphic curves, stuttering breakbeats, & argillite pipes carved in the Haida Gwaii.

In canyons, on ridges, immersed in a rhythm, I am sometimes struck by a powerful sensation of divinity undergirding all things.

This is my attempt to share this language & presence with those that hold my work in their hands.