From Cake to Kiln: Sculptural Ceramic Art and a Dash of Adventure

Drying a floral sphere in between layers of brush on Celadon glaze

It is a truth universally acknowledged—or at least acknowledged by me—that pursuing one’s dreams is not the sole preserve of the young, the sprightly, or those who can touch their toes without emitting an audible groan. Today, I find myself back in the studio, embarking on a bold new chapter as a ceramic artist.

For the past 25 years, I wielded a piping bag with the precision of a surgeon, adorning cakes for every conceivable occasion. But now, I’ve swapped buttercream for clay, sugar flowers for sculptural ceramics, and the sticky chaos of buttercream for the dusty, dignified chaos of a pottery studio. Instead of being devoured, my creations now aspire to live on as collectible pieces of fine art. A minor improvement, I think you’ll agree.

Of course, one does not simply pivot into the world of ceramics without proper credentials. I’ve been thoroughly trained in the ways of the kiln, with a BA in ceramics and an MA in textile design, where I explored innovative processes using silicone. (Yes, I am quite the academic powerhouse when it comes to mucking about with materials.) My current focus is on creating floral ceramic sculptures—delicate spheres that serve as both warm-up exercises and explorations of nature-inspired artistry. These are not mere trinkets for mantelpieces; they are sculptural statements designed to elevate interiors and, with any luck, attract the discerning eye of collectors and gallery curators.

Waiting to be put in the kiln, floral sphere decorated with Scarva Peacock glaze

Now, I’ll confess to feeling a tiny flutter of nerves. Pursuing a dream at this stage of life is akin to setting out on a sea voyage with the tide against you—there’s a thrill to it, but also the occasional wave of self-doubt. However, I’ve always believed that age brings certain advantages: perspective, resilience, and a well-honed ability to ignore unsolicited advice. Besides, creativity, much like fine wine, improves with time (or so I tell myself when faced with a particularly cantankerous lump of clay).

I am inspired by the work of so many other artists—ceramicists and otherwise—who push boundaries with their craftsmanship and innovation. Their work reminds me how much there is to learn and how much potential lies ahead. My floral spheres are just the beginning. This year, I aim to be adventurous, pushing boundaries, exploring colour, and perhaps even combining materials in unexpected ways.

This blog will be my attempt to chronicle the ups, downs, and sideways tumbles of this artistic adventure. I’ll share the triumphs, the mishaps, and the moments when I stare at a half-formed lump of clay and wonder if it’s mocking me. Along the way, I hope to connect with those who appreciate the value of handmade art—collectors, curators, and anyone else who might be tempted to part with large sums of money in exchange for a ceramic floral sphere.

So, here’s to the start of something new, something daring, and—if the kiln gods are kind—something beautiful.