Sechelt
I had been working in paint, paper and canvas for more years than I care to admit when I began taking classes with pottery instructor Pat Forst in Gibsons. After I stumbled on an article on the net about the freedom and advantages of working with paper clay, I constructed a folkloric horse, then a woman's torso surmounting a horse's lower body. Next I fashioned a group of small (12-inch) women that I call "fashion victims," strutting in swirling gowns and strange headgear. These creatures led to a series of busts of females wearing vaguely African or Arab headdresses, their clothing a collage of textured, highly coloured fragments of clay. Each bust is bigger than the one before; only the dimensions of our kiln keep them in line. The last of them, veiled and more static than the previous ones, just fits neatly under the lid of the kiln. However, this piece led to a wall mural, a triptych inspired by the women of the Middle East who continue to struggle to emerge, only to be submerged again. This mural includes symbolic veils flying from female heads.