The Early Firings Contained Many Stones.

For Me Looking, Touching, Material, Place And Form Are All Inseparable From The Resulting Work. It Is Difficult To Say Where One Stops And Another Begins. Place Is Found By Walking, Direction Determined By Weather And Season. I Take The Opportunity Each Day Offers: If It Is Snowing, I Work In Snow, At Leaf-fall It Will Be Leaves; A Blown Over Tree Becomes A Source Of Twigs And Branches.

A Snowball Is Simple, Direct And Familiar To Most Of Us. I Use This Simplicity As A Container For Feelings And Ideas That Function On Many Levels.

There Are Occasions When I Have Moved Boulders, But I'm Reluctant To, Especially Ones That Have Been Rooted In A Place For Many Years.

We Leave Our Presence In The Pavement. We're Walking Over It, Sitting On Steps.

I'm Dealing With The Most Important Things There Are: Life And Nature. If This Doesn't Work, If This Doesn't Sustain Me, I Can't Go Back To Nature. I'm Right There. There's Nowhere To Go, And That Frightens Me.