Ironically, while building these ceramic heads I listened to a podcast (Criminal) about people stealing petrified wood from Arizona's Petrified Forest National Park. Despite warning signs and ranger talks, tourists stick the petrified wood down pant legs and in their cleavage to smuggle it from the park. Even stranger, they often mail the rather heavy wood back to Petrified Forest along with elaborate apology letters. I collected (stole?) these bits of wooden antler on our recent backpacking trip. We walked through acre upon acre of burned out forest. We clambered over countless snags and massive piles of dry blackened branches. We were traversing tree graveyards, scattered with brittle white bones and pocked with gargantuan crumbling heaps of deteriorating stumps. There were vivid green saplings peeking out of dead root systems and growing along the wide white backs of downed snags. I was a crow in that world, every twist of sun bleached branch seemed like a treasure. I filled both arms then came to my senses. I couldn't carry that fragile bundle of sticks for the next two days of hiking. I chose these four pieces. Twisted, charred, riddled with hairline cracks, they are a glimpse into that hot crackling landscape we visited.