It all begins with an idea. My freshman year college roommate was going to New Hampshire for the summer Turns out that New England was the one area of the country I hadn’t been to on vacations with my family. I said I’d like to come with him. He agreed. We stayed in little cabins on creeks in the woods. Bathed in the creek which was also our refrigerator. We supported ourselves tearing down old rickety barns for a couple local guys who sold the weather-aged grey barn boards in Boston and New York.

Harrisville was an old woolen mill town with water powered machinery. The mill was still running, with electricity now, and many workers still living in company housing that made up most of the little town. One day my roommate said he wanted to go visit a childhood friend of his who was apprenticing at a local pottery. I don’t know if I even knew that handmade pottery existed. When we walked into the studio I was two people making pots. I instantly KNEW that I HAD to do this. I pestered Nancy and Lauren Libow over and over to teach me. After 6 months of me asking and they're saying no I received a different answer. If I want to come and be an apprentice, they were open to having that conversation. I was. We did. In the week between Christmas and New Years of 1969 I drove to Libow Pottery with two friends who dropped me off and drove back home. I was an apprentice for around 2 years at which point they said my pots were as good as theirs and offered me the option to be business partners with them. I said yes and worked there for another few years before leaving to start my own studio.