Staying True to Inspiration, Especially When Business is Good

Continuing my slow work, enjoying every moment of the process

I'm feeling a good kind of overwhelm right now. Our newly opened gallery is running beautifully, work is selling, and I'm even pulling pieces out to show in an upcoming small works show. It's everything I've been working toward, and yet... there's this little voice that's started whispering: 'What if you run out? What if you don't have enough work to fill the gallery AND the online shop?' But underneath that practical worry, there's something deeper - that familiar nagging doubt creeping in, imposter syndrome doing what it does best. Fear digs its little claws in and suddenly I'm questioning everything: Am I actually good enough for this? Do I deserve this?

I'm so grateful to be in this position - it's honestly where I've been wanting to be for as long as I can remember. But when good problems start feeling like problems, it makes you pause and think about how you want to move forward. The growth I've experienced this year has been incredible, and now I'm faced with a choice about how to honor that momentum.

Digging My Heels In

So how am I choosing to respond to those pesky fears? By digging my heels in.

When doubt starts weaseling in and that familiar urge to jump into 'production mode' creeps up - ya know, that voice that says 'just make what sells, and make it faster, and then make more of it' - I'm actively resisting. Deep breath in, and slow breath out. I'm revisiting my mood board from the beginning of the year, remembering how I want to feel in my life, not just how I want my business to look. I'm sticking to the practices at home that keep me feeling anchored and strong when I step into the studio.

Because here's what I've learned over the years: there's a huge difference between creating work that I truly love and creating work that I think will sell (emphasis on the think…. it often doesn’t budge). And right now, even when the pressure is on, I'm choosing to stay on the path of making things that light me up because now I know that there’s a place for it. After years of feeling lost, I can see that I just took a little longer to get here.

New work in process, ideas taking shape

What "Staying True to Inspiration" Actually Looks Like

Staying true to inspiration looks like honoring my slower days and not forcing anything in the studio. I go in with my to-do list and my sketchbook, but I stay fluid and allow myself to wander into new ideas. Sometimes the clay doesn't want to form into what I've marked on my list, and I've learned to let it morph into something different.

It means listening to that quiet voice that says 'what if it was blue or what if you let it fall in a little?' even when it doesn't make logical business sense. It's trusting that the work I create from a place of genuine curiosity and excitement will always be stronger than the work I force myself to make because I think I should or think I have to.

Some days, that looks like abandoning the large platters on my to-do list to make teenie tiny little cats - and I'm okay with that! In my studio, the magic happens in those unplanned moments, not in the rigid adherence to a production schedule.

Beyond in love with this piece. The rewards of slow, intentional work.

What's Keeping Me Grounded in My Creative Practice

So how do I stay connected to that sense of play and curiosity in my work? It starts at home, honestly. Creating nourishing meals and the occasional elaborate dessert keeps me tuned into my household and gives me the opportunity to turn on an audiobook and get lost in the coziness of my home. I need that slow, relaxing, and intentional process of cooking and caring for myself. I think that same energy carries over into how I approach my work these days.

I've also been taking time out of my schedule and prioritizing museum visits and artist talks. ARTS Southeast is right in my neighborhood and has a very cool lineup of events, shows, and artist talks - Seeing other artists' work and hearing how they navigate their own creative challenges has been so inspiring. It makes me feel more connected and in community.

Other things that help me dig in and keep believing in my work: revisiting my mood board when doubt creeps in, keeping my sketchbook right next to my to-do list in the studio, and giving myself permission to follow those creative tangents (even when it means tiny cats instead of large platters). I make seasonal pieces that feel like palette cleansers, and I've learned to trust when the clay wants to become something different than what I planned. And you know what? Sometimes I just have to say out loud, “I do not need to make 100 mugs to be a successful potter”.

The teenie tiny cats (or familiars) in question… These will be part of my upcoming fall release.

The truth is, staying true to inspiration isn't always the easiest path, but it's the one that feels most like home. And right now, in this moment of beautiful overwhelm, I'm choosing to trust that the work that lights me up will find its way to the people who need it.

Here's to following inspiration, trusting the process, and making work that feels like home.