For years I've been bringing objects home from charity shops and flea markets. Patterns and preferences started to emerge; certain materials, shapes, uses. I had no idea what I was going to do with them. Gradually I stopped asking this question and started to trust my instinct, accumulating piles of wooden bowls, bakelite telephone receivers, porcelain power sockets, rusty old tools.
These objects live in my studio and are loved and cherished by me. I sort them, clean them, handle them, wonder about them. They are orphans in an orphanage, receiving care and appreciation.
And then, sometimes, they find each other. And they're home, and happy.