Heads have long been a recurring favourite of mine

Heads have long been a recurring favourite of mine. I've drawn inspiration from the huge Basaltic monoliths of the Pre-Columbian Olmec heads, that emerged, wrapped in vines, from the South American jungles. I've also drawn inspiration from the Easter Island heads, Pacific Island Tikis and jade heads from Innuit and Polynesian carvers. The statuesque heads in Assyrian, Egyptian and Etruscan sculpture, and the more contemporary works from Elizabeth Frink, such as her sinister "Goggle Heads", and Giacometti's wonderful sculptures with their intense gaze.

I think heads are just not big enough to contain all the "stuff" that goes on in them. Surely a huge cavernous cranium would give these processes more room to rattle around in. This head was originally made in clay and hard to control during drying, so I allowed it to crack, accepting these elements as a welcome if unexpected bonus. After making a mould the first cast was in plaster, which expanded and pushed the mould out of shape, creating a seam around the face. Yet another unexpected feature adding richness to the story of its creation. For me, part of the process of building anything is knowing which of the unexpected "mistakes" to greet as welcome guests and which to reject and put down to incompetence on my behalf. This head is cast in concrete using Portland stone, white cement and green wax. It hung in a tree outside my workshop for most of the summer being revealed in dappled sunlight at different times of the day. It swayed in harmony with the tree and wind, a gentle guardian.

Originally a female figure, I struggled getting the arms and breasts right. In a fit of pique I took a hacksaw to it and cut it off above the waist. It sat on a shelf for a while and some time later it was joined by a small clay head sitting at the other end of the shelf, and Leghead was born. Its a plaster and clay original of a grotesque vision from hell."