About Me

don’t read this.  it’s written out of gratitude for people and places–it sounds pretentious.  embarassing. I don’t have visions of grandeur, i’m just sentimental.  maybe head over to the Portfolio. lot’s of pictures over there. not so many words.

[June, 2006]
I received my BFA from UW-Whitewater in 1995. a respectable, yet “under-the-radar”, art program. my decision to pursue a drawing emphasis, while misguided, led to a fondness for the basics (composition, eye movement, balance) while showing me the value of a harsh critique. when I finally took clay, I responded immediately to the process of making – the part my hands controlled — and to the instruction. professor Charlie Olson, who welcomes the seduction, allowed me to focus singularly on the repetition of making. it was liberating and crucial: while I made tight, fairly bad vases, Charlie was quietly, resolutely, teaching me about quality. he is the reason for my life as an artist, and the reason I stubbornly persist. I love you buddy.

enough. he’s not dead.

in 1996 I entered the MFA program at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. much of what I learned I soaked up from my graduate peers (Matt Kelleher, Mike Strand, Chad Wolf, Leigh Cohen). with beer. it amazes me the casual comments that have stuck; words that, at the time, sunk to the bottom. luckily, they bubble back up. the professors’ impact was immediate. Eddie Dominguez had a tornadic presence that proved art can vibrate out of the body. his permission to ignore the art/ceramics world, to look exclusively inward, resonates loudly still. Pete Pinnell’s technical savvy directly affected my work. but his eye for detail, his respect for craftsmanship, affected my attitude. then there’s Gail Kendall. the Queen Bee. the stern yet insightful motherly figure who took 5 seconds to change my whole perspective. “you don’t love making pots. you love decorating surfaces. do more of that.” she understood my compulsion before I knew I had one. I miss Lincoln.

best of all, Lincoln is where I met my wife–a bright young sculptor with a do-rag on. Meagan Kieffer and I spent the summer of ‘99 as residents at the Archie Bray Foundation in Helena, MT where we ate, drank, and made work. we rarely collaborate–but exchange ideas. she gets it. i respect her comments, and her work. later that year, we began a 3-year co-residency at the Appalachian Center for Crafts in Smithville, TN. an out-of-the-way school that afforded us the most precious commodity of all: time. not really a place to rub elbows but, more importantly, a place to build kilns, concoct glazes, and test clay bodies. to focus. my work became much more articulate–and slow–matching the pace of life out in the hills of Tennessee. thank god for Waylon. early Waylon.

I began teaching all clay classes at Belmont University in Nashville in 1999, learning what it means to be cheap, adjunct labor.  i’m still there, without much fuss.  (ahem).  good hours, and a good colleague make a difference.   up to now, I haven’t been willing to bounce around the country searching for The Job.  in 2002, Meagan and I bought a house (and built a studio) in Watertown, TN.  enough land for horses but not neighbors.  I know this much: the original plan – sending work, practically anonymously, to juried shows – has changed.   the new plan is murky, but it involves making, planting, weeding, loving, working, feeding, showing, growing, digging, sanding, poking, pinching, drinking, teaching, and hugging.  and kissing. we’ll see what happens.

[Update: October, 2011]
it’s true, kissing leads to babies.  in April of 2010, lovely Elias was born.  our plan to “strap him to our backs… keep on making art” has been modified.  some babies just don’t understand.  predictions that child-birth would ‘change’ my subject matter were vastly dumb.  what changed was our studio routine.  but we’re coping.

after a 3-year move over to Lipscomb University, i’m back at Belmont.  turns out, conservatism doesn’t like me.  luckily, other schools do: my workshop schedule has only gotten fuller.  i’m reminded how many strong clay faculty –with strong programs– are out there, and a part of me wants to be included.  time will tell.

[Update: March, 2024]
Adeline is 10, while ‘lovely’ Elias is 13. raising children to me is the single most gratifying experience I can imagine. it puts the act of making ‘art objects’ in a perspective I could not have foreseen. it doesn’t lessen the act. it….solidifies it. everything in the world is more real. more dangerous. more beautiful. more confounding. the stakes are higher, as in: “what if my kids hate my art?” (they don’t, by the way. not yet.) as my connection to the ‘art world’ decreases, I happily perch myself in the audience of a community theater, watching these two with the deepest love as they sprout wings before my eyes. the art is still being made, and my devotion to it is unharmed. it turns out though, it has taken Second Chair for a while.