Perhaps it was a gesture that caught my eye, or an emotion that had to find form somehow. The kernel of an idea for a sculpture can come from many sources.
Regardless, they all look ridiculous at first; nothing like a horse, but maybe an antenna.
Quickly the wires are measured, marked, bent and trimmed to create a 3-d schematic of a skeleton. A rough outline of the torso, just a flat panel of clay, is put down the midline. It’s a backdrop to position the legs and head and tail against. Then I start building out with wax and clay. Simple. But not easy.
I fall in love with each horse. With every personality that emerges. Every shape, every form.
But if the affair wanes cold then the piece is put in the closet, to wait for the next right time. Inevitably there is one.
“Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working” said Picasso. While work pauses on one piece, it continues on another. At any given time I’m actively working on one or two sculptures and have (I loathe to admit this…) a dozen or so in the closet. They play off of each other. What I learn from one shows me how to resume work on another.