The origin of the work goes back to a project at college when I was making Eucharistic chalices - very impractical ones. The day was torn so that reference was made to the breaking of bread and the sharing of wine in one ceramic piece. Those pieces also gave some effect of movement and stillness and this referred to where the Holy Spirit could be found not in the earthquake or the fire, but in the still small voice and the wind of Pentecost.

The imagery of earthquake wind and fire is ever present with me when I work with clay. When I throw the clay is a chaotic whirlwind which properly controlled becomes a wall of nothingness surrounding a still and silent centre. The resultant work then goes through the earthquake, wind and fire that can be found in the atmosphere of a kiln and the refining change that entails. The work has since moved on - the chalices have become vases and the tearing has become cutting, although I intend to return to tearing in the future, ideas take a long time to work through and each piece is very time and labour intensive. My output is correspondingly small.

The making process starts with throwing a basic shape which is then turned. The piece is then cut according to my design and the base inscribed with a favourite line from a poem, hymn or anthem before a biscuit firing to 1000°. The pot is then rubbed down and an internal glaze applied before a final firing to 1250° -1280° in an electric kiln and a further rub down with wet and dry paper and diamond pads.

I make use of a sketch pad every day and draw from life at a weekly workshop; I find more and more that I make reference to my drawings when executing work.
I recently produced a selection of bowls collectively entitled “Who is it you say that I am?” These make reference to a question that Jesus put to his disciples and one that I find myself considering more and more.