Poet Bob Kaufman wrote, “…Creation is Perfect…” This phrase has been a lighthouse, a ladder, and a lifeboat in those awkward moments of uncertainty found between unwrapping a block of clay and expressing a cohesive idea. It has been a beacon to illuminate the darkness of irrational fears. A reverie that does not vouch for the product but, more importantly, the action. The process of creation is perfect and beyond that moment all things exist in a state of entropy. There seems to be a harmony between creation and destruction, one defines the other. A block of clay is destroyed to create a sculpture. It is then subjected to extreme heat, which transforms it to something fragile, that on a timeline difficult to perceive, will eventually breakdown and return it to the earth. This is not a duality and should not be perceived as linear. It is more cyclical, like the ebb and flow of tides. This is the creative process in which the artist and the form/concept can meet somewhere in the middle. Sometimes it comes easy, and sometimes it is a long and arduous struggle to achieve. The creation is made out of every experience in an entire life up until this moment, and clay. Every piece continues to take a lifetime to create, so that life itself is a material. And so, art should represent this moment in time, an interpretation of right now. What is created is an attempt to be as honest as possible. Truth is static and fragile. Honesty and sincerity has plasticity.