The Afan Valley area in South Wales, where I grew up, is one of outstanding beauty. Though ravaged by mining, first for copper then later for coal, the Valley and the sentient hills that surround it retain the essence that provokes my creativity.

I am often asked about the blue-green stones that are embedded in every piece I create. There is no real mystery to them. During the 17 th century the valley was scarred and smoldered as a vast copper mining operation desecrated the land. After the copper had been extracted by furnace the residue would be tipped onto a slagheap. The blue-green stones are fragments of this, the fused heart of the Valley. They are not precious or valuable but a reminder to me that nature prevails.

A majority of the ivy I use in my work comes from my home valley and surrounding areas. I believe the damp harsh climate and the shadowed landscape lend themselves to produce ivy that twists and turns with an ancient determination.

The ivy that I use is not cut from living trees but from the fallen trees and buildings that the ivy has toppled. Whenever I return to Wales to seek out ivy, I build a little pile of Stones up in the mountains knowing full well that on my return, the driving Valley winds and rain will have toppled them. I rebuild these Cairns on my next visit as a reminder to me of the persistence of the ivy and of the Valley.