Teapots - cubes - poetry - another cycle I return to the teapot. The clay is plastic - responsive to my gentle touch - yielding - resistant - all at once. It can be pushed and pulled - squeezed - twisted - formed. I mold the clay - sensuous forms emerge from my fingertips - flows into clay. All at once my hands and clay interact as one - new - unexpected shapes evolve. Clay may be added - cut away - more added. The form changes endlessly until it is fired. Then it becomes hard - dense - like stone. I am open to the unknown - the unexpected - unpredictable - chance - within limits of order. The search continues.