I've made my home by the seashore, walking in all seasons at the wrack line, a high tide band marked by crispy seaweed where the waves have crafted a place to discover its offerings of delicate seashells, tumbled glass, stray buoys, anonymous bones, and bleached driftwood.  The boundaries of which extend to my front door, kitchen windowsill, night stand, and even in my bed. to know these objects is to know me, each pieces holding a story waiting to be told.  

My work bench practice, much like the waves, is to smooth out the rough edges and refine the pieces to their essential form.  Each with its own individual character, I leave them as offerings so their story may continue with you.