We do not always see eye-to-eye when we are too close for comfort. We have imprinted in our genes, all the good and all the bad, all the talents and all the vices that make us unique.
There is something almost mystical about the relationship between mothers and daughters. Mom and I lost and found each other over and over. It was not until I had my own kids that I finally realized errors, hesitations, and human failings could be repaired where there is love.
There is no better and easier way to immortalize your soul than by molding clay. I learned to make my own plates, cups and vases out of wet clay, reveling in the fact that they will be around far longer. I also fell in love with freestyling clay figures that inspired me with their mysterious beauty and fascination.
In one of my spontaneous pictures, I show a mother figurine looking into a pond as if it was a crystal ball. She tries to find just the right words to tell her daughter how much she loves and needs her. A daughter figurine dancing to the right of her mother is caught up in her thoughts almost unaware of the power she has over her mom. Later, I sculpted the two rather generic heads thinking about how our world would be if science started designing kids in test tubes absent of a mother and father.