A combination of podcasts and audiobooks. I love anything true crime, scientific, or political.
Wishlist
more space
Studio
My little garden studio was never designed to support a full-time pottery business, so in hindsight I probably would have made it a bit bigger! At approximately 204 square feet (19 square meters), it requires a surprising amount of juggling to make everything fit. But despite its modest size, I absolutely love it. The studio sits nestled among the established trees and shrubs of my garden and faces directly toward my glass-fronted house. On dark winter evenings, when I’m throwing late, I don’t feel completely alone. I can look across the garden and see straight into the warm glow of my living room.
My husband, Stan, and I moved into our Brighton home in the south of England in 2019 and immediately saw an opportunity to build a pottery studio. At the time, we were both working full-time jobs but were completely obsessed with pottery. What had started as a hobby was quickly becoming something we wanted to take more seriously, so we built our larch-clad studio ourselves.
The plot we chose was slightly awkward. To the right, the ground slopes steeply downhill, and to the left, there used to stand a beautiful old ash tree, which sadly had to be removed later due to ash dieback. Determined to make the most of the space, we poured the concrete foundation as large as possible to fill the plot, without worrying too much about right angles. It was a great way to maximize the available space, although the math became rather complicated when it came to building the frame.
With the footprint so limited, we tried to make every design decision purposeful. One of the most useful features is our high “postbox” windows, which bring in plenty of natural light while still leaving uninterrupted wall space for shelving. We also installed bi-fold doors that completely open up the studio during the summer months.
In 2023, I left my job as a secondary school science teacher to pursue ceramics full time, and since then, the studio has evolved even further. Over time, I’ve adapted the space to make my workflow more efficient. There is now a slim cupboard for miscellaneous studio items, while everyday tools have designated homes so they can be easily reached, and a fold-out table adds additional working space.
The biggest transformation, however, has been the adjustable shelving system that now spans the entire back wall of the studio. Not only can I change the spacing between shelves depending on what needs storing, but I’ve also built dedicated shelves for reclaim. Because I primarily work with colored clay, my making process generates a lot of clay that needs to dry out, and these shelves have saved a huge amount of space. My kiln is also tucked neatly within this shelving system; when I need to put a firing on, I simply wheel it out into the studio.
Even with all these adaptations, the space is still quite compact, so some things will never live in the studio. Packaging, for example, is stored in the house; I wrap orders in my kitchen, where several drawers and cupboards are now dedicated to boxes, tape, and packing materials.
In an ideal world, I would love to make the studio bigger, but because of the awkward plot, that isn’t really possible. Fortunately, I’ve developed enough systems over time that the space works surprisingly well. At this point, the only upgrades I’d really like to make are for the sake of my back—switching to a standing-height wheel and raising my worktable.
Paying Dues (and Bills)
My husband and I first discovered pottery about ten years ago, starting with evening classes, then joining a communal studio, and eventually investing in our own wheel. Before moving into our current house, we converted the spare room of our flat into what we generously called a “studio”—when in reality it was simply a wheel, a table, and a few shelves. Because we were learning together and are naturally quite competitive, we pushed each other to keep improving.
I’ve spent countless hours at the wheel, always keen to learn and refine my throwing skills. So, when I eventually decided to pursue ceramics full time, I threw myself into the business with the same determination.
I know I work too many hours—there rarely seems to be a weekend when I’m not ‘just popping’ into the studio. In the early days, I supplemented my income by teaching one-on-one lessons alongside making my own work. Those lessons turned out to be far more popular than I had imagined, and before long, I realized I was spending more time teaching than actually making. Over the past year, I’ve gradually stepped away from teaching so I can focus fully on my own work.
Marketing
I have several income streams that support me financially. I make bespoke ceramic lampshades for a lighting company and sell wholesale to a small number of shops. I also sell online through curated marketplaces (online platforms that list my work while I retain the stock and handle the shipping), as well as selling directly to customers at markets and through my own website.
Wholesale accounts for around 60% of my work (including the lampshades). Online curated marketplaces and markets each contribute roughly 10%, with the remaining 20% coming from sales through my own website.
To make these income streams work together, I designed a core collection of work that I sell wholesale and keep in stock for the curated marketplaces. This then allows me to create experimental and limited-edition collections that I sell exclusively through my website. I typically launch around four of these collections a year.
To promote my own work, I’ve dedicated a lot of time to building an audience on Instagram. Sharing process videos, studio moments, and glimpses into daily life in the studio has really helped people connect with, and buy my work.
As a trained teacher, I inevitably find myself gravitating toward teaching in some way. More recently, I’ve started sharing educational posts about running a pottery business, alongside writing a Substack about my studio processes. In January, I also launched an online course designed to help other potters price, market, and sell their work.
Most Important Lesson
Not long ago, I read Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman, and one line in particular really stayed with me: “The day you finally get everything done will never come.” That idea felt uncomfortably familiar. There are always a hundred-and-one tasks waiting—I answer an email promptly only for another reply to ping straight back, or I order more glaze and immediately realize I’ve also run out of wax resist.
So, I’ve stopped trying to do everything and instead focus on prioritizing the tasks that help me build the kind of business I actually want. For example, while I enjoyed teaching one-on-one pottery lessons, I eventually realized that selling my own work was where I wanted to place my energy.
Finding another obsession outside of pottery has helped with this, too. So, most weekends, when I’m not just popping into the studio to check on my pots, you’ll find me playing beach volleyball.
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Just the Facts
Clay
stoneware
Primary forming method
wheel throwing
Primary firing temperature
cone 6 in an electric kiln
Favorite surface treatment
using stains to create colored clay
Favorite tools
Mudtools Do-all trim tool
Studio playlist
A combination of podcasts and audiobooks. I love anything true crime, scientific, or political.
Wishlist
more space
Studio
My little garden studio was never designed to support a full-time pottery business, so in hindsight I probably would have made it a bit bigger! At approximately 204 square feet (19 square meters), it requires a surprising amount of juggling to make everything fit. But despite its modest size, I absolutely love it. The studio sits nestled among the established trees and shrubs of my garden and faces directly toward my glass-fronted house. On dark winter evenings, when I’m throwing late, I don’t feel completely alone. I can look across the garden and see straight into the warm glow of my living room.
My husband, Stan, and I moved into our Brighton home in the south of England in 2019 and immediately saw an opportunity to build a pottery studio. At the time, we were both working full-time jobs but were completely obsessed with pottery. What had started as a hobby was quickly becoming something we wanted to take more seriously, so we built our larch-clad studio ourselves.
The plot we chose was slightly awkward. To the right, the ground slopes steeply downhill, and to the left, there used to stand a beautiful old ash tree, which sadly had to be removed later due to ash dieback. Determined to make the most of the space, we poured the concrete foundation as large as possible to fill the plot, without worrying too much about right angles. It was a great way to maximize the available space, although the math became rather complicated when it came to building the frame.
With the footprint so limited, we tried to make every design decision purposeful. One of the most useful features is our high “postbox” windows, which bring in plenty of natural light while still leaving uninterrupted wall space for shelving. We also installed bi-fold doors that completely open up the studio during the summer months.
In 2023, I left my job as a secondary school science teacher to pursue ceramics full time, and since then, the studio has evolved even further. Over time, I’ve adapted the space to make my workflow more efficient. There is now a slim cupboard for miscellaneous studio items, while everyday tools have designated homes so they can be easily reached, and a fold-out table adds additional working space.
The biggest transformation, however, has been the adjustable shelving system that now spans the entire back wall of the studio. Not only can I change the spacing between shelves depending on what needs storing, but I’ve also built dedicated shelves for reclaim. Because I primarily work with colored clay, my making process generates a lot of clay that needs to dry out, and these shelves have saved a huge amount of space. My kiln is also tucked neatly within this shelving system; when I need to put a firing on, I simply wheel it out into the studio.
Even with all these adaptations, the space is still quite compact, so some things will never live in the studio. Packaging, for example, is stored in the house; I wrap orders in my kitchen, where several drawers and cupboards are now dedicated to boxes, tape, and packing materials.
In an ideal world, I would love to make the studio bigger, but because of the awkward plot, that isn’t really possible. Fortunately, I’ve developed enough systems over time that the space works surprisingly well. At this point, the only upgrades I’d really like to make are for the sake of my back—switching to a standing-height wheel and raising my worktable.
Paying Dues (and Bills)
My husband and I first discovered pottery about ten years ago, starting with evening classes, then joining a communal studio, and eventually investing in our own wheel. Before moving into our current house, we converted the spare room of our flat into what we generously called a “studio”—when in reality it was simply a wheel, a table, and a few shelves. Because we were learning together and are naturally quite competitive, we pushed each other to keep improving.
I’ve spent countless hours at the wheel, always keen to learn and refine my throwing skills. So, when I eventually decided to pursue ceramics full time, I threw myself into the business with the same determination.
I know I work too many hours—there rarely seems to be a weekend when I’m not ‘just popping’ into the studio. In the early days, I supplemented my income by teaching one-on-one lessons alongside making my own work. Those lessons turned out to be far more popular than I had imagined, and before long, I realized I was spending more time teaching than actually making. Over the past year, I’ve gradually stepped away from teaching so I can focus fully on my own work.
Marketing
I have several income streams that support me financially. I make bespoke ceramic lampshades for a lighting company and sell wholesale to a small number of shops. I also sell online through curated marketplaces (online platforms that list my work while I retain the stock and handle the shipping), as well as selling directly to customers at markets and through my own website.
Wholesale accounts for around 60% of my work (including the lampshades). Online curated marketplaces and markets each contribute roughly 10%, with the remaining 20% coming from sales through my own website.
To make these income streams work together, I designed a core collection of work that I sell wholesale and keep in stock for the curated marketplaces. This then allows me to create experimental and limited-edition collections that I sell exclusively through my website. I typically launch around four of these collections a year.
To promote my own work, I’ve dedicated a lot of time to building an audience on Instagram. Sharing process videos, studio moments, and glimpses into daily life in the studio has really helped people connect with, and buy my work.
As a trained teacher, I inevitably find myself gravitating toward teaching in some way. More recently, I’ve started sharing educational posts about running a pottery business, alongside writing a Substack about my studio processes. In January, I also launched an online course designed to help other potters price, market, and sell their work.
Most Important Lesson
Not long ago, I read Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman, and one line in particular really stayed with me: “The day you finally get everything done will never come.” That idea felt uncomfortably familiar. There are always a hundred-and-one tasks waiting—I answer an email promptly only for another reply to ping straight back, or I order more glaze and immediately realize I’ve also run out of wax resist.
So, I’ve stopped trying to do everything and instead focus on prioritizing the tasks that help me build the kind of business I actually want. For example, while I enjoyed teaching one-on-one pottery lessons, I eventually realized that selling my own work was where I wanted to place my energy.
Finding another obsession outside of pottery has helped with this, too. So, most weekends, when I’m not just popping into the studio to check on my pots, you’ll find me playing beach volleyball.
throwtofire.co.uk
Instagram: @throwtofire
Substack: @throwtofire
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