I often notice things: the eagle’s face in the red rock of Sedona, New Mexico; a small stone found in the New York Botanical Garden that calls me to pick it up, and lo, I see a couple embracing; the way a tree bends in the wind; the color of the light dancing through the leaves of the trees outside my studio window on a sunlit windy day. “Aha,” I say, “Spirit is at work here.” The textures and images on the vessels I create out of clay, the very body of The Earth Mother, reveal what I see or don’t see, but feel.