Driving from one bee yard to another, I notice subtle shifts in the colors of coulee bushes and grasses. I open and check each hive, surrounded by the smell of wood chips burning in the smoker. As the air vibrates with buzzing bees, my thoughts drift toward creating new objects, forms, and textures.

Bees linger in the back of my mind while clay-covered hands shape, coil, and build. I carve deliberately into the surface, feeling the hard chunks of grog scratch fine lines into the soft clay beneath the tool. Time vanishes as I remove smaller and smaller amounts of material.

Drying sculptures fill up studio shelves and tables, patiently waiting for the next firing. Once in the kiln, the clay transforms into ceramic art. Meanwhile, bees gather by hive entrances furiously beating their wings. Within, nectar becomes honey.