All my life, I've lived and worked hugging the famed Route 66 Foothill Blvd., at the base of the San Gabriel and San Bernardino
Mountains in Southern California. The necessity to live always at the base of the mountains has become solid these past few years. It took the
horrendous foothill fires of Southern California, the flooding and mud slides of my home, after 20 years, to get me out of Lytle Creek Canyon
this past December (2003). It's funny how crisis has a way of clearing your mind, mine was, and it seems that everything I've done in my life, so
far, has always been for the clay. All things accomplished so far have been to get to this point. Now, keeping equipment, dragging the kilns here
and there and knowing what to keep going, because there could be a time when it will be needed, keeps me hoping that it is the right thing to do.
Clay is a luxury, and now I appreciate it more than ever.
Like so many potters, I too have a collection of Ceramics Monthly's from the 1960's to date. The transition to now, has me wondering about many of the questions asked in the magazines. I've thought of so many reasons to inquire, and to share my personal stories about running a studio (in Cucamonga, before it was incorporated in the 1970's) on Route 66, going to all the studio parties held at the Claremont Colleges, rubbing shoulders with the icons of pottery.
Thanks to Ceramic Services portable kilns, my 14 cu. ft. raku kiln and my little raku conversion kiln. So now all things are portable. You have to think mobile in California, we are still waiting for the big earthquake. Maybe I should buy some velcro for the stuff on the shelves, just in case.
When sitting at my original old cone driven Shimpo-West from the '70s, and know that I am so lucky to have family and friends who have encouraged and supported my work in clay.