Artists don’t get down to work until the pain of working is exceeded by the pain of not working.
Clay can be a metaphor for many things. I made it a metaphor for flesh and earth, and these are two kinds of generic givens of life, if you look at it poetically, biblically, the idea of the life of beings, of man, being transitory, the earth abides-ashes to ashes, dust to dust-man returns to earth, grows out of earth like a flower, wilts, goes back to the earth... We are frail, transitory creatures with aspirations of immortality, conscious of our inevitable death, and we have to deal with it somehow.
I have discovered that the unasked-for accident can be the salvation of what you are doing.
There is an investment of your own life experience in something as innocent as colour.
