The 10,000 Studies of a Bowl Maker
Over the decades, I have figured out how I make art, how I turn my studio into the palace of making. It is not about what I am creating, it is this odd combination of mediums that connects me to my soul, and then my soul to the soul of the world.
My process is a recipe refined over the years: part writing, part bowl, part illustration, part paint, part prop, part documentation. And while the ingredients are exact, there is a complete need for the whole thing to be unmeasured. This is the cake my soul likes.

From the 10,000 bowls will come shows, where I will gather a few hundred cups and bowls, along with all their poems, paintings and props, and share them in person. The current collection I am pulling together will be shown in the spring or fall of 2022.

Old Maps
Art is a way to navigate past the Krakens. A way to find a current of words that splash the salt of soul upon your bow, as the wind sings just the right song from your playlist.
If traveling by foot, a collection of poems can take you so far up the mountain that you find yourself asking the moon for directions to get back home.
I pick up art as a map when I am looking for trails walked by my soul’s kin. When I am looking for that old, wooden spoon to stir the cooking pot that is simmering over that once-upon-a-time fire in my other home’s hearth.
There are boundless collections of maps in the world’s treasuries of art for all to steer by. I just picked up a painting today that when I plugged it into my navigator, took me on a round-about way, straight to wonder.

