The very words "holiday season" cast a spell over me, filling my heart with the shimmer of possibility. In my mind, the world becomes a snow-dusted wonderland, sparkling with all the magical things I might craft to bring Christmas cheer to life. Though not every dream takes shape, whenever I find myself humming a carol as I cross my threshold, I know a little enchantment has crept into my home.

Our stumpy little Christmas tree stands aglow, a guardian of memories, swaddled in ornaments spun from decades of laughter and love. Beneath its gentle watch, my holiday studio hums like a storybook cottage. This year, the most sought-after treasures were my bread warmers, each one a tiny talisman, pressed with flower pod motifs in playful, swirling patterns. I left them unglazed, their bisque finish as earthy and honest as stone—perfect for warming loaves and pastries on winter mornings. Oil bottles vanished as if spirited away by elves, so next time I’ll be sure to conjure more before they disappear.

Come the New Year, a new adventure awaits: I’ll be creating with red clay instead of speckled, to see if my flower forms bloom brighter in its enchanted hue. I’ll begin with miniature pots and blossoms, like tiny gifts left by woodland sprites, before daring anything grander. Into my palette, I’ve invited back blues, violets, and greys—the colors of winter twilight and storybook skies.
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The old barn, once home to a band of mischievous mice—much to Ricky the farm cat’s delight—has been restored to peace, thanks to a little intervention. Since autumn’s golden farewell, our only improvements have been the staining of windows and an extra charm or two for water control. I’ve chosen the barn’s next color, but that secret will stay tucked away like a hidden treasure until winter’s end.
Until then, you’ll find me curled by the hearth, a goblet of mulled wine in hand, weaving dreams of next year’s adventures. May your Christmas be filled with warmth, wonder, and a sprinkle of magic from my little corner of the world.

​I blinked, and suddenly May was over. Here we are in the second week of June, and I can't believe how quickly time has passed. Missouri goes from below freezing to the sweltering days of summer in just about two weeks. This spring has been one of the rainiest on record, and I know everyone in the county is feeling the effects. My market at Long Row Lavender turned into a muddy mess. Despite the rain and wind, we had some dedicated supporters come out to back the local artists. 

My mom had her first experience assisting at the market, and it was quite an entertaining sight. If you've never seen someone lose a battle with a roll of paper, you certainly missed out! However, by the end of the day, she figured out how to wrap ceramics and create beautiful packages for our patrons. Even though she might hesitate to volunteer again, she stepped up when my sister, my usual assistant, couldn’t make it.  Overall, it was a fantastic show. Lavender Row was a wonderful host, and I made enough money to buy a new batch of clay for the year. 

As for my old barn, the rain is still causing problems. With a leaky roof, it’s not wise for me to move any equipment into that space for a while. On a positive note, progress has been made with the installation of new lighting and some electrical work. At least now we can see what we’re doing while making plans. In the meantime, the barn has become a storage area for farm equipment, garden supplies, and scrap wood. I’m not upset about it, I embrace this phase, knowing these essentials are steps toward future progress. This summer, my goal is to finally stain the window treatments and get the building power-washed and painted. Will it happen? That depends on if it stops raining long enough and if I can persuade my teenage niece to help me.

New work will flourish as the barn continues to undergo transformation, and preparations for the next show are already in motion.  Initially, I had a show scheduled for July, but the host—who shall remain unnamed because I enjoy their venue—canceled. This might actually be a blessing in disguise, as I was two weeks behind on several forms. This extra time will allow me to create enough items for my website and for the shows I plan to do in the fall. I may even squeeze in a summer market, so be sure to check back and visit my events page for updates. Thank you for stopping by to see what’s happening at Riverside Pottery's Old Barn!

​I’m not a seasoned vlogger or blogger, so I’m not entirely sure if posting at the end of the month counts as a faux pas. But that’s usually when I remember to jot down a little update. So, as April draws to a close, here’s what’s been happening around here.

We were hit with another prolonged stretch of rain, which delayed work on the old barn once again. Sanding and staining had to be put on hold. I decided to power wash the exterior instead, only to discover my hose wasn’t long enough to reach from the house to the barn. Frustration could have set in, but I knew that wouldn’t help. Instead, Alex and I turned our attention to prepping the garden. Let’s just say that project snowballed quickly, and now we’re aggressively racing to finish another new endeavor so I can finally get my vegetables planted.

When we moved to the farm, I already had several planter boxes with a modest garden. It was thrilling to pick and cook with produce I’d grown myself. Once here, I fixated on bigger, better raised beds. With a plethora of leftover lumber from the previous owners, Alex got to work and brought my vision to life. Last year’s garden was impressive—tremendously fruitful. It was the year of the locust, so I netted all my boxes, which kept the squirrels, birds, and rabbits at bay. But toward the end of the season, a groundhog declared my garden his personal buffet.

Alex offered to enclose the garden, and I jumped on that offer faster than he could finish his sentence. If the weather holds, the enclosure should be completed by the first week of May. I missed out on the cold-weather crops but managed to plant carrots and bean poles this week. Fingers crossed my lettuce and cucumbers will be next.

In the end, perhaps the relentless spring rains were a blessing in disguise—without them, I might not have a garden that feels like a dream come to life, a space I look forward to stepping into every day.

I’m excited to experiment with new recipes using the food I’m growing and to design pottery inspired by this journey.

​As an artist, I have always found art markets to be crucial for my survival in the art world. These markets provide me with a platform to sell my work, generate income, and gain exposure to potential buyers. Without art markets, I would struggle to sustain my artistic practice and financially support my creative endeavors. Selling at art markets is not just about making money; it's about connecting with patrons who appreciate and support my art. When individuals take the time to visit markets, browse through the artwork, and make a purchase, it means the world to me as an artist. Your support and appreciation fuel my passion for creating art and inspire me to continue pursuing my artistic dreams. I want people to know how appreciative artists are for their support. Every purchase, every kind word, and every bit of encouragement from individuals at art markets means so much to us. It's not just about the transaction; it's about the meaningful connections that are formed between artists and patrons through art. So, to all the those who visit art markets and support artists like me, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude. Your support not only helps me as an artist but also contributes to the richness of our cultural landscape. Thank you for recognizing the value of art and for being a part of my artistic journey. Visit my events page to find out where I will be popping up next. 

​Fall art markets are in full swing. From cinnamon-spiced latte to a brewmaster's unique pumpkin-brewed beer, markets help artists make a living and give us fuel to keep pushing. Closing the book on Summer and looking forward to bomb fires, winery tours, and football gives me the pep needed to finish the year. Inspiration for future works comes from my experiences and conversations throughout this time of year. Recently, I have been working on a KC Chiefs Football series that I intend to keep in my collection for the long term. I continue with floral motifs on mugs, vases, and pitchers. The delicate petals of the flowers are becoming the focal point of my designs. The feminine, delicate, and gracefulness of peonies, tulips, and snowdrops give me a sense of whimsy that I look forward to exploring. My first Fall market is at Long Row Lavender Farm in Wright City Missouri. Come join me for this one day market from 10:00 am to 3:00 pm. ​My dad resides right down the road, so I secretly hope he rides in on his horse. Wouldn't that be something? 

​After years of searching for our dream property in northern Missouri Alex and I stumbled upon a neglected house nestled among towering trees only a mile down the road from our home. The old property had seen better days, that was for certain. The overgrowth was rampant, and the barn was filled with an assortment of forgotten items. But there was something about it that drew us in – perhaps it was the solid bones of the house or the untamed beauty of the surrounding woods. We made the bold decision to purchase the property, knowing that it would be a project unlike any other. With the help of friends and family, we spent months restoring the house, clearing the land, and breathing new life into the neglected property. It was an arduous journey, but it was also incredibly rewarding. As each season passed, we watched in awe as the property transformed before our eyes. Living here for a full year allowed us to truly embrace the beauty of the changing seasons. The arrival of spring brought a burst of color and the sweet melody of nature coming to life. As well as the smelling onion batch I'm still deciding if I should keep. Summer was a time of heat, rain, and infrastructure maintenance. Autumn painted the trees in stunning shades of orange and gold. Winter draped the property in a serene blanket of snow. We spent our time exploring the woods and uncovering hidden treasures. Despite the challenges that came with restoring the old property, there was an undeniable magic in calling it our home. Every morning, I treasured walking through the woods with a steaming cup of coffee, taking in the sights and sounds that had become so familiar to us. 

As time passed, I found myself increasingly intrigued by the history of our home. Every discovery in the woods hinted at the lives of those who had once walked the same paths we did. This curiosity led me to schedule a session at the local historical society, eager to uncover the stories and secrets that lay within the walls of the property we now called home. Looking back, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the journey we had embarked upon. The old property has not only become a home to us but also a testament to our perseverance and the beauty of embracing the unknown.