WHEN I AM OLD.... I did this bust from the poem.... it is bigger than head size.... it sits alone in my studio in the middle of the forest - high on the mountain side - gathering dust....

I remember jumping into the whole process of making her... throwing together a hunk of wood to build the shoulder foundation - and then a big old jar to form the neck and begin the process of the head... then swiftly scrunching up newspaper to develop the skull bulge and holding all of that mess that I was blindly creating with one hand as I wrapped around a clay slab with the other ... and somehow in my rushing, haphazard, and careless ways... somehow.... I formed a body of clay that I could work with and sculpt. Sometimes I amaze myself... but, in the process... I only stay focused on the final outcome and know that it will happen... and it does....

so... when I am old... hmmm..... like today.... slow moving today....