The Monsterpots are what you’d call a staple in my Kest Pottery shop. In marketing parlance, it’s called a “signature item” that I make all the time and it’s a unique thing. One might call it a branded work and in doing so, I betray the fact that I’ve been doing waaaaayyyy too much research about marketing.
I’m a still little allergic to formal marketing, though I’m trying to work through it. All that stuff seems to reduce people to “marketing targets.” It says that if I get the right magical keywords and tags on my pages I can be sure that my “product” gets out there in front of them. I’ve got to send “email blasts” and newsletters to be successful in this digital world. I’ve got to be mindful to select just the right words and phrases in my blog so the search engines pick it up and funnel it to the right people. Business-speak is so blerghy. I don’t see my art fans this way but as real people, friends, and as potentially amazing relationships. People become my patrons because hopefully, I have something of value that they need in their life and they’re willing to support me in turn with their hard earned money. So, I’ve decided to redefine marketing as just a way to find and connect with the patrons who want to trade one lovingly made value for another. This shift in my perspective has really helped me to get past the icky bit. Instead of thinking of marketing as “a necessary evil”, I see it as a way to give my people what they didn’t know they wanted.
When I started the Kest Pottery shop on Etsy in 2020, I was prompted by the platform to create unique descriptions of my work for each listing. This ended up being really fun because each Monsterpot has its own name and birth certificate (each kiln-fired cohort or “litter” has the same birth date), and I was already starting to imagine that they each had their own little personal back story. I wrote each story with the intention that buyers aren’t just getting pottery from me but adopting a funny little character who comes home to live with them. This went over fabulously with my pottery fans who will occasionally send me little notes about their monsterpot’s continued shenanigans. Of course I love and encourage this— it’s a collaboration — because it means that the story lives on and the pottery has meaning deeper than the materials or its fixed shape. It feels like an organic and authentic connection.
I was reminded of “Seinfeld”. In the show, Elaine is an copy-editor for the J. Peterman Company Catalog which utilizes the owner’s bizarre stories of traveling all over the world (i.e. “exotic” locations) as a means to sell the company’s various catalog items. At the time I wasn’t aware that this is a real marketing strategy; I thought it was interesting though, and amusingly different.
It’s brilliant because it gives the catalog reader an “in'“ to connect with a thing that’s being sold: J. Peterman is giving an intimate read of his diary and pulling his audence along for the ride. People don’t just buy your art, they buy an object that provokes certain thoughts which make a them feel good; they know they belong to its little corner of the universe and it makes them happier to be in its influence. Perhaps they know they’re not alone there and the art is proof. They’re buying your work and they’re buying a piece of you because you also belong to that universe.
If you could invent a story or backstory for the art you’re making right now, what would it be? Sky’s the limit then. Gentle Art Gnome; may your imagination take you to the stars.
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Just a reminder that the Monsterpots and eyeball mugs will be migrating to KestFineArt in 2023. If you sign up to get my newsletters (see box below; yay, marketing), I can send you WIPs and shop updates, just sayin'.
In 2022, I wrote about beginning to make my own pottery glazes from raw materials. Commercial bottled glazes were convenient, but expensive, and I had an itch to develop something more personal. Over five years of experimentation, I’ve come to understand the qualities I’m after…
I’ve been having a lot of fun with the sigil series lately. I especially enjoy making them in rhythm with the seasons—letting each one echo the mood of the turning year.
Lughnasadh is a time of harvest, of gathering what’s grown, and of giving thanks for all that has carried us this far.
Why do I sculpt so many eyes into my work? It’s a question I get asked a lot—sometimes nervously. The answer has more to do with protection, presence, and ancient symbolism than you might expect...
When I made this piece, I started thinking differently about legacy. It’s not just about me lasting. It’s about us. I want humanity to survive this perilous moment we’re living through. I want us to make it to the other side of whatever this is….
The Sigils are evolving a bit into something intriguing and new. I’m planning on offering a set to mark the eight seasons of the year’s Wheel. Litha, or Midsummer, is coming up on June 21st, representing the vibrant season of light, zenith, celebration, and radiance.
I’d never made a yarn bowl before so when a fan of my work asked me to make her some, I was intrigued with the challenge.
Asimov’s I, Robot stories; the idea of positronic brains, the laws of robotics, etc., fascinated me. I loved the mix of complex ancient civilizations, philosophy, and science fiction. His writing made the potential exploration of worlds by future beings seem so vast and interesting.
What has become pretty clear to me is this: Artists who use their work or others’ work to train an AI to spit out images for them to paint are completely missing the real value of what they potentially could get from working with an AI assistant.
The gallery, Manor Mill in Monkton, MD, has invited me to participate in their group invitational show, “Out of the Forest” this August.
Lately, I’ve been adding videos of my sculpting process on my YouTube channel. I uploaded this one in February after firing a huge batch of mugs.
I’ll be attempting to provide you with shorter blog posts more frequently— once or twice a week — to fill you in on what’s happening in my studio.
Heartbreak is only temporary pain as I scoop the shattered bits of tiles into the dustpan or repair kiln shelves from the bubbled bits of glass fused to their surfaces. My heart begins to mend from the many failures with every dried bit of greenware I dump back into the clay reclamation bucket. Because with every failure, I earn an experience which teaches me something new about my craft.
One of the challenges I faced while making ceramics over the past several years is how to re-create something as it was the first time. Someone will say— “Oooh, I love that!” and want the same thing. This is where molds and stamps come in handy….
When I was a kid, I was more than slightly obsessed with little boxes of any sort. Then, I didn’t know for certain why. Perhaps because they held my most important treasures and keepsakes; I stashed….
Making the award sculptures for ConGlomeration’s Art Show was a fantastic time. Being given carte blanche meant I could just have a blast imagining anything at all…
When I had made a batch of these prototypes, I gave one to Elva, my pottery mentor who gifted me my studio and equipment. Her remarks on seeing the ware were that I was making pottery in the tradition of “face jugs.” What was that?
Sometime in the mid-90s, I had the opportunity to visit Harlan Ellison and his wife Susan at their home in Thousand Oaks, CA, and what I remember most was the gargoyles they had hanging over the garage entrance. When I got home, I just had to try making some of my own….
“Moonpots” are my variation on the 1000-year-old Yixing tradition of making lidded teapots. The Jiangsu region boasts a unique purple sand clay which the artisans use to produce beautifully hued ware, but it’s the method and precision of the construction of the pots which first grabbed my attention when I became aware of this tradition.
For the past couple of decades, a late December tradition has been to look back on the past 12 months and give its passing some kind of assessment. I remember all the wonderful people in my year and the “successes” for which I’m grateful, and then there are the things that didn’t go as planned but I’m still happy if I learn something from the experience. This exercise is also accompanied by a list of
The Monsterpots are what you’d call a staple in my Kest Pottery shop. In marketing parlance, it’s called a “signature item” that I make all the time and it’s a unique thing. One might call it a branded work and in doing so, I betray the fact that I’ve been doing waaaaayyyy too much research about marketing.
Not gonna lie to you, I too, have been a little confused about all the sculpture and pottery that I’ve churned out over the past 30 years and what it means to my trajectory as an artist. As I’ve also been a serious…
Ever wonder how the ceramic process works? I'm fascinated by it and I think you'll be too once you know more. Ceramics, like many other art processes, is a multi-staged process. Here is my quick-and-dirty explanation:
I’d gotten to a point in my ceramic work where I was becoming curious about the chemistry and wanting to have more control over the surface appearance of my work, but even more, I wanted to cut down on the cost of my glazes. Commercial glazes are hella expensive but worth it for the reliability, and making glazes from scratch was a nightmare— so I was told….
Several years ago, I put aside all friendly warnings and dismissed my trepidation and started mixing my own glazes…
When I began using my kiln in 2016, I began keeping a log of the hours that each firing took to achieve a certain cone or temperature. For a few years, the number of hours really didn’t change too much unless the kiln was really loaded but then I noticed…
I was testing new glazes — a project I've been building for months, reformulating my entire palette away from heavy metal oxides toward Mason stains. Safer chemistry. What I didn't anticipate was…