I started my Etsy shop in 2011, not knowing I'd have twin boys a little over a month after I'd posted my first items. (The twins came 2 months early.) Luckily, I started small. Now I'm working my way up to larger work, more variety, and a more extensive inventory. I am still learning to budget my time between art and family, but the inspiration and exhilaration they give me is worth the lack of sleep and missed studio time.

I have a 10 year old girl and 7 year old twin boys. One of the twins has Down syndrome, so a lot of time goes to doctor appointments & therapy, as well as the other regular kid stuff like school and playdates. The kids and I indulge in art on a daily basis; coloring and painting, making food, and singin' & dancin'. Art is good for all kids, but my son with DS especially enjoys our artistic endeavors. It's great therapy too. (Not just for him.)

Once the kids finally stop askin' for stuff and go to sleep, I get to work. I work out of a studio in my basement. It's never tidy and a little dank, but there's a lot of space (still never enough), it's convenient and it's MINE. I have a small kiln, given to me by a mentor, a simple wheel, tons of handmade plaster molds and lotsa shelves. I work when I can, hoping that as the kids become more self-reliant, I will have a bit more time. (Probably not as much as I think.) But I want to be an artist when I grow up, and I'm determined to do so: be an artist. The growing up part is negotiable.

I recently noticed how a lot of my work reflects my daily life and the way I think about the world. I tend to work intuitively, making whatever comes to mind, and then I piece together the meaning and intent afterwards. So I don't always immediately recognize why I'm making what I do until after it's already made.

Right now my focus seems to be on making objects that have a secondary use or meaning other than the obvious one--pots that look broken but aren't, gears that don't work and never did, teapots that don't hold tea, bottles that are boxes, houses too tiny for residents, pots with holes and cracks that still hold something, and hearts that can make you sad.

It occurred to me that if I were to successfully become a career artist, there would be no real retirement plan. I'd have to work 'til the day I die. And I can live with that.

I have also recently opened another Etsy shop, to divide my pottery from my paintings. Check me out here: paintswatchart.etsy.com