The Native American man seen here displays imagery from historical depictions of a long dead tribe; The Timucua of North-east Florida. He is an old man and yet was once a warrior. The lines on his face are scars, whether received in battle or by exposure to time and the elements, scars they remain. With his war paint on the gaze holds the viewer and the mutual heart breaks with history, legend, pain, and love. Attempting to capture a melancholy wisdom this is the face of the people through whom I was first exposed to clay. As a boy growing up picking up pot sherds and attempting to make pots of my own from the same clay beds I draw a strong, if abstract, lineage to these ancient people. Growing up close to the land and sea I have developed a land ethic that trends towards “Deep Ecology” and I find it so pleasing to make pots from the same clay, influenced by the same estuarine environment as did the potters 5 thousand years ago.