Message from the Potter

A new year always brings a sense of possibility. At Crisanthemum Studios, January isn’t about rushing forward — it’s about setting intention, staying curious, and making space for what wants to grow. After a meaningful first year on Main Street in downtown Pilot Mountain, we’re stepping into 2026 with excitement, creativity, and a whole lot to look forward to. Here’s a little glimpse of what’s ahead. Creativity will continue to be at the heart of everything we do in 2026. O

A Year in Review from the view of our Potter. As the year comes to a close, I find myself sitting with a feeling that’s hard to put into words — a mix of gratitude, pride, disbelief, and deep appreciation. This year marked our first year in downtown Pilot Mountain on Main Street, and what a year it has been. Crisanthemum Studios didn’t just open its doors — it found its people. From the very beginning, this space was imagined as more than a pottery studio. It was meant to be

Hi friends, As the year winds down and the days grow shorter, I find myself drawn to the gentle glow of the kiln — that quiet heartbeat of the studio that keeps burning through even the coldest days. The orange light spilling from its door feels like a reminder: there is warmth in the work, and transformation in the waiting. Clay has always mirrored life for me. It begins soft and uncertain, then hardens in the fire into something strong, enduring, and full of purpose. Every

Hi friends, November has always felt like an invitation to pause — to breathe, to look around, and to recognize the good that quietly surrounds us. The harvests may be gathered, but gratitude keeps growing if we tend it. In the studio, gratitude shows up in unexpected ways. It’s in the warmth of the kiln on a cool morning, in the laughter echoing during a class, in the glaze drips that somehow turn out better than planned. It’s in the stories people share as they paint, the f

Hi friends, Every October, the trees remind me that letting go can be beautiful. Here in northern North Carolina, the hills start to glow in shades of gold and crimson, and the air carries that first hint of woodsmoke. It’s the season when everything feels softer, slower, and somehow more honest. I see the same truth reflected in clay. There are moments when a piece I’ve spent hours shaping suddenly resists me — it collapses, cracks, or simply asks to begin again. It used to

Hi friends, There’s something about that first crisp morning—the steam rising from a handmade mug—that feels like coming home. Coffee...

Hi friends, Clay has seasons, just like we do. Some days are for shaping. Others are for resting. Lately, I’ve been learning to honor...

The Handmade Table Hi friends, Some of my favorite summer memories aren’t about where we were or what we wore—they’re about the tables we...

What Clay is Teaching Me Right Now! "The ‘Almost Ehh’ Collection — Perfectly Imperfect with Personality." (Every piece has a story, a...

On Motherhood, Creativity, and Coming Home to Ourselves Stepping out of her comfort zone and into creativity — Cris painting her very...