I recently started creating these new bowls. I love making them! I hand build the forms and then paint the patterns onto the bone dry unfired clay. Something about painting onto that absorbent dusty surface feels deliciously primitive and ancient. Clay itself is a time machine of sorts. When I hold a cool damp chunk of it in my hands and form it into something, anything, a bowl, a figure, a cup, an ornament, I am repeating the actions and intentions of the earliest of human artists. While I sit in my swivel chair at my canvas covered work table, my brain is firing the same commands to my clay dusted hands that some ancient human’s brain fired at their own dusty working hands whilst squatting near a fire in some prehistoric cave, some 15,000 years ago.