The body as an object — objectified, deconstructed, fetishized, weathered, worn, parsed, reconstructed — is a living document. Our experiences are drilled into its skin. Our memories are visceral and sensual. Our DNA holds our history and often immutable limitations. In deference to the burgeoning field of epigenetics, we are just beginning to learn that, within our bodies, we carry the bodies of our ancestors and the immediate effects of their experiences as beings, one lifetime passed to another lifetime. My work is about the body and the story it tells of its existence. I imprinted on the human life cycle, and how vulnerable the body can be no matter how indomitable we seem. I was transfixed by my own body and the bodies of others, especially those who have been marginalized by our society. I am interested in how society views women, in particular, over the span of a lifetime from childhood to fertility to infertility.  I’m attracted to the tensile girding of muscle, the skin as both taut and loose, and the underpinning of bone that is most clearly revealed by the elderly. Truncation is a theme in my work because of its power and cultural relevance — what does society want to see, what does it hide and excise, how does truncation reveal how women’s bodies are discussed in parts and pieces? With clay, I am able to edit and shape what is integral to the narrative. I push against the concept of the ideal body as it is shown in sculpture through history and throughout a lifetime, especially given that in our culture the ideal body seems to be the only one that is truly authorized.  Even for the ideal female body, that authorization comes from those in power, not from the woman herself. Portraits of the body reflect the world that rises up around each of our bodies, uniquely and changeably over time. The body is a commentary on the world that surrounds it.