Lessons from Clay (and a Few Lemons Too)
I’ll admit it—I can be a little thick-headed. Sometimes I understand a lesson logically but don’t really learn it until life smacks me with it from a new angle. Then I’m like, “Oooooohhhh, now I get it.”
Before I ever put my hands on clay, I floundered a lot in my art. I constantly questioned whether I belonged in the art world, whether I was good enough, whether my work was worth sharing. I made mistake after mistake and felt crushed by my own perfectionism. Half the time, I didn’t even want my husband or kids to see what I made. I was embarrassed—ashamed, even. I saw only what was wrong.
Then I found ceramics.
Something about working with clay taught me what other mediums never could. It helped me build not just skill, but confidence—creative confidence that spilled into other areas of my life.
Mistakes Are Not the End
Ceramics taught me that mistakes don’t have to be failures—they can be opportunities.
In every other medium, I’d scrap anything that didn’t go to plan. Trash it. Start over. I couldn’t live with a visible error. But with clay? I’ve learned to roll with it. If something doesn’t turn out the way I’d envisioned, I stop and ask: What else could this become?
Some of my favorite pieces were born from accidents. A warped slab. A dropped handle. A misaligned form. They pushed me to think creatively, to adapt, to innovate. And in the worst-case scenario? I’ve got the perfect guinea pig for glaze experiments. Nothing is wasted.
Even a “wasted day” can teach something.
Last weekend, I spent an entire day prepping for a project that I knew in my head—only to realize halfway through that I should have worked it out on paper first. I got the angles wrong and couldn’t assemble it as planned. I was furious with myself… until I stopped and reframed it.
I hadn’t wasted the day. I’d learned to double-check measurements, that I want an armature for this build, that my new heat gun works beautifully. And I now had a bunch of slab pieces waiting to become something. Maybe something even better.
Planning Helps—Until It Doesn’t
Planning is important, especially when you’re building rigid structures or assembling multiple parts. But in decorating—or in life—it’s easy to overplan. Get too locked into an idea and your piece can start to feel stiff, forced.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is relax. Be present. Let the work evolve. The results will surprise you.
If Life Gives You Lemons… Use Them in a Still Life
Okay, I don’t love comparing trauma to lemons. But I can’t help but chuckle when I think of it this way.
Life will throw stuff at you—grief, anger, trauma, chaos. Instead of ignoring it, use it. Let it out in your art. Sculpt it. Paint it. Draw it. Smash it and make a mosaic out of the pieces.
That’s the real catharsis. That’s how art becomes healing—for the artist and maybe for someone else too.
Fall in Love with the Process, Not the Product
Ceramics has taught me to love the act of creating—not the thing I create.
If I loved only the end result, I’d have quit long ago. There are just too many ways for a piece to go wrong. Cracks, warping, glaze defects, explosions in the kiln—sometimes you lose everything after the finish line.
I’ve seen my son drop an entire stack of finished, glazed work. It happens.
If you’re only in it for the final product, this path will break your heart. But if you love the feel of clay in your hands, the rhythm of the wheel, the smell of the studio—then you’ll always get something meaningful out of the process, no matter what happens in the end.
Perfection is for Machines
If art were meant to be perfect, machines would do it. I’ve had to let go of my perfectionism—especially in ceramics. I used to be so precise, so critical of every flaw. But that kind of rigidity? It kills creativity. And in clay, it often kills your work, too.
Handmade means human. Let go of perfect and keep moving forward.
Play is Productive
Play isn’t a waste. It’s necessary. It’s where the real learning happens.
Stop worrying about wasting materials or time. That’s what the “f**-it bucket”* is for! Let yourself experiment. Try things just to see if they work. Don’t limit yourself to what you know how to do, or what you should be doing. That mindset will keep you stuck.
If you never play, you never grow.
Throw or Be Thrown
Everything in life is in motion. A throwing streak ends. A perfect piece cracks. Plans fall apart.
The world changes in a moment, and if you’re too rigid, you’ll shatter with it. But if you stay flexible—like clay—you’ll adapt. You’ll survive. You’ll become something new.
Right now, I’m trying to get back into the rhythm of making again. To rebuild my habits. To reconnect with clay and the quiet power it gives me. I’ve been thrown, sure.
But now? It’s my turn.
Time to throw.
Love seeing you grow and being a part of your journey.