While we might not have the immediate satisfaction of selling our pieces in-person every single time we release a new collection of work, we are presented with an opportunity to make our pottery more accessible by giving those that want it, the opportunity to buy online, and in turn, maybe even taking some of the pressure off of the pressure we put on ourselves for the 3x yearly events.

writing daily prose & sharing them within a home for creating throughout the month of October, 2025 — to help rebuild my relationship with writing by writing through my fear of sharing what I write (by way of daily visual entries within a designated safe space inside of a home for creating’s Notion hub)

While I’ve been familiar with nasturtiums my whole life, it wasn’t until I moved back to the pacific northwest that I fell head over heals for them

I recorded this voice-note after feeling entirely stuck and fed up with my approach to writing, and while I suspect my relationship to this craft will always be up and down, I am determined to create less obstacles between us

I didn’t think I would make a video this month, so when I sat down one day with the idea of putting together something short and sweet and not at all what I had planned on doing, I surprised myself by thoroughly enjoying the entire process

The only decent remedy I’ve found to feeling unsure about the thing want to keep doing but you’re not sure how to keep doing because the doing doesn’t come easily, is to keep doing it regardless

I didn’t feel that my expectations were on the studio tour itself, more but the process of creating pottery, and why it felt so important to me to re-establish that relationship

The garage door is propped open a little bit to help counter any fumes coming from the kiln that is on and slowly getting hotter and hotter

Yesterday, I framed and hung up pictures of our dog, and once finished, I wandered around the house to admire my handy-work, and to admire him in all of his expressions

I’m sitting at my office desk, slowly packing for a flight I have later this evening, having just read a few of the comments a letter I wrote to Kona, our beloved dog that died in August

What I came up with is: what I want right now is community. A space to learn and be inspired, and with room for us to change our minds and try new things and let ideas go

Inspiration as a resource—as it relates to those that make and share through their creative medium, and in turn, motivating you to write or read or draw or paint or sing or dance or take an improv class

With rapid, micro-changing moods, visits with family, keeping up with the current state of the world, and tending to work tasks, my mind has been elsewhere, and whenever I’m somewhere else, I find it difficult to find my way back—to land anywhere close to where I was before

While community used to be something I nurtured in public, it’s now something I tend to in the shadows of my day-to-day (between appointments, after work, before I sit down with my coffee, while fussing over my rosebushes, or over long weekends)

This morning, I deadheaded a few of the potted plants, leaving behind me little piles of dried flowers as I moved from pot to pot. And just above, there’s a helicopter making its way to the hospital half-a-mile or so west of where we live

A few things have come to mind since I shared my latest experiments in motion, and I’d like to share them now before they slip my mind (which they will, because they always do)

Going off of the idea that an experiment is something we’re actively choosing to learn more about, try on, better understand, play, interact, imagine, or express ourselves with…

Rather than thinking of resources as something fixed and unchangeable, we’ll focus on the resources that work for (and with) us right now. The resources that might change shape or drop off for awhile

I was on a walk earlier this evening with my husband. It’s been a cool day for a day in mid-June. The wind piercing through our sweatshirts while we pause in patches of sun that warm our faces