I listen to the voices in my head… they tell me things. I take in what the world offers, process it in some fashion and then out it comes, manifested in clay.
All my life, that is how long I have been doing art of some sort. My mom was a painter and ceramist, my dad a woodworker, my uncle a dancer. I was surrounded by creative people. I never took art classes (formal training) until a senior in high school. This followed with a BFA at Western Carolina and a MFA at East Carolina.
I appreciate formal training, but I take some issue with directives… You know, this is the right way to do something and that is the wrong way. I keep looking for the rule book, I suppose it is somewhere.