Putting the pieces back together.

I collect bits and pieces of history. It might be a rusted finial from a 19th-century fence post, a broken 19th-century stoneware jug, or a wooden shovel with old repairs. A shape, texture, or design will catch my eye and I feel that it will be a part of my art someday. Part of my excitement comes from that initial "not-knowing," a prominent stage in any self-taught artist's journey. Many of the things that I save have been broken, lost, abandoned, discarded, and forgotten, and these eventually become my art.

Often, I stop moving and just sit, perhaps holding a piece of broken 18th-century pottery. Maybe it has a beautiful leaf pattern or a word on it and I know that it belongs with another piece that I found, possibly years earlier. There is something special about putting pieces, each with its unique history, together. The practice of observing how one supports the other, creating something new and whole, is an art that continues to be deeply satisfying to me. I hope to uplift people with my work and I think maybe they will find this wholeness in themselves, as I have begun to.

Life never turns out like you think it will. Sometimes we feel broken, worthless, and without value, and something or someone comes along to help us remember that although life may go differently than planned, it has not diminished us: it has made us better.