As a ceramic artist, there’s always a nagging question in the back of my mind: "What if I can't recreate the magic?" You might laugh, but I often worry about being a one-hit wonder. My nerikomi striped range was an instant success—it became the backbone of Mystery Creek Ceramics. But the thought of whether I’ll ever create something as popular again is always there.
When I teach, I remind my students (and myself) of an important truth: successful ideas don’t appear overnight. The striped range wasn’t an out-of-nowhere moment of genius; it was the result of years—actually, seven years—of practice, experimentation, and gradual refinement.
Starting From Scratch
Let’s rewind to where it all began. If you scroll far enough back on my Instagram (I dare you), you’ll find my very first pottery post: a set of three small pots from Tuesday, August 23, 2016. At the time, I’d been taking throwing classes for just a couple of terms.
Pottery didn’t come naturally to me—I spent over a year learning to throw at a basic level. Those early pieces make me cringe now, but back then, I was so proud. Each step forward felt monumental, and that feeling hasn’t changed. Even now, the best piece I’ve made is always the one I just finished.
Entering the World of Colored Clay
Nearly a year later, on Tuesday, August 8, 2017, I tried using colored clay for the first time. It was a modest experiment, mixing Pot Black from Botpots with PW20 clay, which remains one of my favorites.
Looking back on those early experiments, I can’t help but wince at the results. But I also remember how excited I was taking those photos, capturing what felt like the best work I’d ever created. That duality—pride in the moment and critique in hindsight—is what fuels growth as an artist.
Experimentation Leads to Evolution
From there, I entered a phase of experimenting with colored casting slip. I was all about casting slip at the time, trying out techniques and learning through trial and error. By May 2018, my work with colored clay started resembling the striped designs you’d recognize today.
This evolution wasn’t linear—it was the result of slow percolation. I’m the type of artist who has countless ideas swirling around, waiting for one to fight its way to the forefront.
Mastery Through Repetition
Fast forward to today: between then and now, I’ve made over 15,000 mugs. Every single one was a step toward refining my nerikomi striped range into what it is today.
The process reminds me of a famous creative process graph that perfectly sums up the journey: excitement, doubt, struggle, clarity, and eventually mastery.
Image credit @javirroyo (go follow him!)
The Takeaway
Developing your style and creative range takes time, experimentation, and patience. The key is to embrace the process—even the cringeworthy early stages—and trust that every step forward is building toward something incredible.
So, if you’re feeling stuck or worried about what comes next, remember: the ideas and successes you’re striving for might just be years in the making. Keep going—you’re crafting your own work, one piece at a time.
