Ramblings of a Hell Wench

That quote has been echoing in my mind as I look back on this past year.

When 2025 began, I felt organised, energised, and ready to conquer the world—or at least my little corner of it. My studio was spotless, shelves neatly stacked, new designs sketched out, and a fresh batch of mugs drying patiently, waiting for their turn in the kiln. Personally, I had plans too: family time, travel, and maybe even a little breathing space for myself. Everything looked beautifully balanced on paper.

But life, as it loves to do, had other ideas.

Clay has always been my greatest teacher. It reminds me daily that control is an illusion and that letting go is an art in itself. 2025 that lesson came in spades. Timelines stretched, projects shifted, and unexpected challenges popped up like weeds in a well-tended garden. Some days, it felt like everything was firing at once—except the kiln!

And yet, amid the chaos, there were moments of pure joy. Reconnecting with loved ones after long separations. Finding inspiration in unexpected places. Watching a piece come out of the kiln with a design that worked in the most beautiful way. Those small wins carried me through the curveballs and reminded me why I do what I do...

Flexibility became my mantra, humour my saving grace. I learnt (again) that plans are just starting points, not guarantees. And that’s okay. Because the imperfections—the wobbles, the detours, the surprises—are what make life, and art, interesting.

So as I close the chapter on 2025, I raise a mug (handmade, of course) to all of you navigating your own twists and turns. May we step into the next year ready to laugh, adapt, and—most importantly—eat, drink, and be merry.

Here’s to 2026. Let’s make it beautifully imperfect.

Wow, just a big thank-you to everyone for your ongoing support and loving what l make as much as l do. It truly has been a huge year where l continue to learn so much in the world of my craft and in the world of business.  Not quite sure how Christmas happened - but all my well laid out plans (who am l kidding?)  seem to have come and gone and in a blink it is the day before Christmas. 

My work is really my meraki. The way l create sees me lose myself completely in my work, and happily so, and everyday some would say necessities seem to fly from my consciousness. Looking back over the year is always interesting to see how some designs have evolved, new ones started and how Hell Wench has grown.  

Things will be a little quiet from me over January as l take a break to visit family and work on some new ideas for 2022, but l appreciate your patience and hope you enjoy the new pieces as they evolve.

Wishing you a wonderful, safe and happy holidays however you choose to celebrate!

WOW! 2020 has totally not unfolded how I planned, and it seems in a blink of an eye l have been transported to October! There is one thing this year has taught me and that is to appreciate the little things, be patient and be kind. 

This year has seen our home, family (including pets) and my studio in Australia being packed up and move in a transpacific relocation to Vancouver, Canada. We spent the first few months acclimatising to our new surrounds, exploring, house hunting, socialising thinking we had plenty of time to organise, order and “smell the roses”. A new house with space for a studio was found in a very eclectic neighbourhood.  l started to explore options; kilns, wheels, artisan markets, clay suppliers etc, and then the brakes where violently set in action with the arrival of Covid-19!  The pandemic stalled my studio and Hell Wench progress for months -but did allow me creative time as we made our new house a home.

Thankfully l did manage to get my hands on some bags of clay before the pandemic hit and while l explored which wheel and kiln to buy (most suppliers here closed shop), l started to experiment with new clay bodies. As l was without a wheel, l embraced hand-building and slab work, embellishing pieces with local wildlife (crow/woodpecker/eagle/raccoon) and new designs (‘some days you need a coat and a crown’). Creating a new studio can be a bit daunting at the best of times but in a new country during a pandemic it felt like being on a roller coaster ride wearing a blindfold.  I loved my old studio and thought it would be an easy transition to a similar functional creative space. I found there was lots of extra administrative paperwork that created moments of such frustration, that l found myself pouring a vodka and soda and binging on Netflix while wondering what the heck l was doing. However, time marches on and l love what l do so l picked myself up and while l am still in the paperwork hell of permits, l found a kiln to rent (while l hunt for my own) which saw my first Canadian stack of clay pieces being bisque then glaze fired!  The recent arrival of a wheel means cups are being made again and my hands are in clay almost daily which is great for my mental and physical wellbeing.

Thank-you to everyone for your patience…

the next step is to ship out orders and update the website!

Please click on the portfolio tab to see images of my journey to date in 2020 which are updated with each new ramblings of a Hell Wench.