I recall rhythmic hammer strikes upon a bright glowing metal object, pulled from a fire and set a top a blacksmith’s anvil. It was then transformed into decorative twists, curves and purpose. This was one of the first experiences I had observing the arts of fire. I was four years old and so at a very early age I pumped the bellows of my Father’s blacksmith forge and listened to the importance of controlling fire and heat. That childhood experience excited my sense palette with smells, sounds and shamanistic displays of sparks and flame. It was a process of making by means of old technology, manipulating a material and creating something from nothing. In part, my passion with wood firing has roots stemming back to this particular childhood memory.

Another association and connection I have with the objects retrieved from a wood firing are the surfaces, rich and colorful like patinas on old metal and wood. My involvement in collecting and restoring early American firearms has lead to an immediate appreciation of the unique characteristics seen in wood fired ceramics.  The hand of the maker, the hand of the owner and the history of an object are seen in the artistically created Kentucky rifles. Several aspects of making rifles parallel the making of pots. Color choice is both decided and undecided. It comes down to materials; the craftsmanship or handing of those materials and in both instances juxtaposed with form. So it seems that making pots and firing wood kilns instinctively makes sense to me. The sensations of the process are familiar, the objects have an individual beauty and each piece has a recorded narration of choice made by the maker.