People Are The Nature Of The City,

I Think I Have Been Fashioned By The Fickle Weather Of Britain That It Is - It's Forever Changing. There's No Kind Of Constant Sun Or Dry Weather Or Freezing Weather, And I'm Always Having To Change And Adapt To That.

Stones Are Checked Every So Often To See If Any Have Split Or At Worst Exploded. An Explosion Can Leave Debris In The Elements So The Firing Has To Be Abandoned.

I Knew The Tree When It Grew, And The Tree Is Now Gone. The Farmers Cut It Up, And It's Become Firewood. And There's This Tremendous Sense Of Absence And Shock And Violence Attendant To That Collapsing Tree.

I See My Work Plagiarized In Gardening Programmes And Decorating Programmes And Car Adverts, And I Suppose I Have To Accept That's Just The Way Art Gets Assimilated Into Culture.

Everything Has The Energy Of Its Making Inside It.