From Earth to Hive

I thought ceramics would hold me.

I threw myself into it the way you throw yourself into anything you hope might save you: a wheel, a slab roller, an extruder, brushes and glazes
—whole studio later. The promise of vessels rising from the earth felt grounded and elemental, and for a moment, like the right path.

I learned not to wrestle with clay, but to dance with it. I loved sitting at the wheel and letting the clay take me on a journey rather than attempting to bend it to my will (not exactly ideal for production).

My pieces resonated with people, and the demand grew. I was thrilled to be putting my little studio to good use, and as my health deteriorated it became my main source of income. But over time, clay asked more of me than I could give: the weight of production, a dependence on fire I couldn’t control, and a body that felt, daily, like it was betraying me. Every step felt anchored by expectation, bulk and equipment — a cage of my own making.

As resistance grew in clay, I looked for what might move more freely beside it. That path led me to beeswax, and in time I realised my work was not meant to only rise from earth, but to flow from hive.

Beeswax carried its own history: flowers distilled, a colony’s devotion, the labour of thousands condensed into malleable gold. It was already alive before it reached me. What I found, finally, was a material that met me where I was — lighter, responsive, quietly insistent in its own way. Becoming a beekeeper only deepened that connection to the hive, the seasons, the flowers, and the traditions threaded through them.

Ceramics taught me discipline, patience, an appreciation for the elements and for heritage crafts. I carry all of that into the wax. But I’ve made the decision to let go of ceramics as a core part of my business. Clay will always remain with me, but free of the weight of production. It may appear occasionally as a ritual object or bead woven into jewellery, but mostly it will be for joy — for expression, for family, for friends.

Clay grounded me; the hive opened me.