For me, taking Tony's class was not just an elective; it was an honor.  Studio time became my addiction.  Not only did I want to create pieces that pleased me and impressed others, but I thrived on each approving look from Tony. 

The piece I chose is the very first I made.  In our first class, he instructed us to squeeze a piece of clay in our hand, sit back and decide what it looked like to us, and work with it.  From this came my Mother and Child abstract.  It is small and simple, but Tony expressed his liking for it claiming that art is in the eye of the beholder, no matter how large, small, or precise.   

Tony's love for raku was contagious.  His last quarter with us he stayed with me for over five hours while I fired well over 30 pieces.  Together we anticipated the reveal of each item.  It was a privilege to see his sometimes childish delight.   

I miss Tony, as I'm sure many others do.  I'm thankful to have had the opportunity to learn from him.  I enjoyed every class and felt an unspoken mutual respect that I now wish I had said aloud.  He was a true artist in every sense.   

“This very essence of a man, his soul, which the artist puts into his work and which is represented by it, is found again in the work by the enjoyer, just as the believer finds his soul in religion or in God, with whom he feels himself to be one. It is on this identity of the spiritual, which underlies the concept of collective religion, and not on a psychological identification with the artist, that the pleasurable effect of the work of art ultimately depends, and the effect is, in this sense, one of deliverance....But both [artist and enjoyer], in the simultaneous dissolution of their individuality in a greater whole, enjoy, as a high pleasure, the personal enrichment of that individuality through this feeling of oneness. They have yielded up their mortal ego for a moment, fearlessly and even joyfully, to receive it back in the next, the richer for this universal feeling. “
- Otto Rank

Melodie Hall