As an artist and a sailor, I spend a lot of time looking at the sea, clouds, wind movements…. I love the way the water bubbles up through the coral reefs at home in Barbados, the swirl of waves around granite boulders in Brittany, echoing the swell of clouds in the sky billowing up over the buildings in Brixton, and the strings of mist below in the valley in the Tarn where my son lives.
In my studio there are photos of series of crashing waves, glairing sunsets, Hubble shots of cosmic dust and sunflower fields moving into the wind. We are surrounded by constant movement, which is uncontrollable, unpredictable and very much a part of us.
The older I get the more I have come to realise that we control nothing and in my ceramics, I have stopped trying to control and force the clay to adhere to my preconceived ideal. My forms are tugged and cajoled, into a semblance of an idea, but the porcelain splits and rips, shrinks and cracks, and I just run with it.