I’m on the ferry and we are slowly winding through a narrow pass between the Gulf Islands off of Vancouver BC. The shoreline is dark, rich and green with trees, grasses and rocks. Sometimes deer graze by the trees. It feels wilder here by the shore even though I can see many houses with trails of smoke rising and lazily drifting upwards. I watch a few gulls play over the water. Suddenly an airplane screams and bullies it’s way down an invisible path over the dull roar of this ferry boat. Two worlds collide. Cities are built right on top of lands like this, it could happen right here, one building at a time until we have to build parks to see the grass again. I speak about that juxtaposition and balance between city life and wild life using a rich dark chocolate-red clay painted with earthy tones of terra sigillata pigmented clay slips. Wild beasts, birds and circus-like figures juggle topsey turvy and fly helter skelter under tall colourful crowns of city dwellings. Open windows glow from sunlight by day and candlelight by night.