My first hands-on art class was nursery-school Fingerpainting, and it was total immersion for me. The feel, the 'sqwuazh', of the paint between my fingers and under my palms, the smell of the paint, running the colors, making a mess, having a ball, and having something to show from all that fun - ah, the bliss of a pre-schooler.….

Well, things haven't changed much. Lucy's class is my second hands-on art experiment, and welding feels a lot like fingerpainting. The sounds of a torch being lit, of a perfect flame, of the MIG being wielded and the sparks flying, lab sounds of the students coaxing and cajoling their ideas into fruition, and the non-verbal vocabulary that accompanies failure, a learning curve, and success. The smells associated with metals and heat and welding & braising rods, and in my case, glue. Glue till I figure out how to install glass-drops-for-eyes without blowing them up. Making a mess, having a ball, and having something to show for it? This is it, I'm found.

Color and texture drive my work. Weathered metal, metal that shows its age and hints at the life it's had, is what stirs me. Over time other found items have wended their way into my ideas. Somehow they all fit together in my mind. Heat will hold them in that pose until rust gains the advantage.