My first inkling of ceramics was—as a young child—watching my mother sculpt a small bust of Elvis Presley.  It was so good and realistic.  I asked her where she had learned to do this and she told me she learned it from my grandmother—who had only had time to show me things like tatting.  But everyone was busy elsewhile, trying to make a living, so I let this curiosity fester until I had a chance to find polymer clay, where I could fit making beads and intricate patterned canes into the crevices available to a mother with 3 children and 3part time jobs.

I told myself that when I finished working so hard, the first thing I’d do would be learning to manipulate clay.  So here I am.