Welcome to February: The Role of Change and my ceramics process

As we progress into the year, I find myself thinking often about change. As a maker and solo small business owner here in Chicago, the push to evolve comes from both within and beyond the walls of my ceramic studio. Some shifts are intentional. Others arrive uninvited.

In the studio, I keep a well-worn binder filled with throwing notes. Inside are dimensions, sketches, clay weights, and small observations about pieces I have made, whether they are staples in my handmade ceramics collection or shapes I experimented with only once. It has become an archive of a decade in business and the growth that has come with it.

Not all change is self-directed. Recently much of it has come through material limitations and shifts in glaze supply. For many years I have mixed my own glazes from raw materials. Developing that palette remains one of the most essential parts of the process. Yet with ongoing disruptions in the ceramic world, from material scarcity to shifting suppliers, maintaining consistency can feel nearly impossible. I find myself researching new materials, testing substitutions, adjusting formulas, only to discover something else has become unavailable. It can be frustrating. Still, I am learning to ask how these constraints might become part of the work rather than obstacles to it. What would it look like to let the moment shape the palette?

Years ago, I came across a phrase that stayed with me: innovation by design, not disaster. It was written for larger companies, but it resonates deeply with me. Whether it is limited glaze materials, a studio move, or simply the natural changes that come with time, I have a choice. I can resist it, or use it to clarify my goals.

Right now, that means continuing to build a foundation of core glazes that define my handmade ceramics while allowing room for experimentation. Letting new colors appear in limited collections. Allowing surface designs to emerge from unexpected tests. There is something humbling about being a beginner again, even after years of working with clay.

There will be flops. There always are. Through ceramics, I have learned that growth requires a willingness to keep trying. After all, craftsmanship, especially in handmade ceramics, is built through repetition and curiosity.

I will always make the classics. Dinner plates with gently curving rims. Mugs that settle naturally into the hand. Planters designed to complement a range of interiors. These forms anchor my work and reflect the quiet, functional beauty I value in handmade pottery. Perhaps this year will also bring something entirely new—a glaze that becomes a signature, or a form that feels unexpected yet inevitable. Change, when I allow it to, expands both the work and the maker.

Thank you for being here and for valuing the craftsmanship behind each piece. I look forward to sharing these experiments with you in the months ahead—through new forms, limited collections, and moments of discovery in the studio. Your support keeps this exploration alive, and I am so grateful you are part of the story.