The studio was quiet this morning. Wheels off. Tables wiped clean. That kind of quiet that feels full instead of empty. The lights clicked on one by one, and for a few minutes before the day started, it was just me, a warm mug of coffee, and a space that’s still becoming. 

That quiet moment felt like the right way to welcome 2026.

When we first opened The Artisan Shop & Studio, there wasn’t really a blueprint to follow. There weren’t other businesses around us doing what I had in mind. I wasn’t trying to recreate something that already existed—I was trying to build the place I had once gone looking for and couldn’t find.

I wanted local artists to have a space where they could share and sell their work. I wanted someone to be able to walk in with zero experience, try a new medium, and learn it from the ground up—with guidance from people already doing the work. I wanted creativity to feel accessible, not intimidating.

Because I know firsthand how intimidating it can be.

As a brand-new potter, many moons ago, I experienced studios where there were unspoken rules about who belonged and who didn’t. You had to throw a certain way. Alter your forms a certain way. Mix your own glazes to be taken seriously. I was told more than once that what I was making wasn’t “real” art because I used commercially produced glazes or didn’t fit someone else’s idea of what pottery should look like.

That experience stayed with me.

So when we opened this space, I didn’t wait until I had every answer. I trusted that I could figure things out as I went. I learned by doing. By stumbling sometimes. By adapting quickly. By staying grounded in the belief that creativity doesn’t need permission to exist.

On March 1st, The Artisan Shop & Studio turns two years old. Two years of learning, adjusting, creating, listening, and building something real—often while learning to fly on the way down. When we opened our doors, we had a vision, but not a perfect roadmap. And that turned out to be exactly what we needed.

Over the last couple of years, we’ve laid a strong foundation. Some days it was deliberate and planned. Other days it was instinct and grit. But little by little, the pieces came together. People began to find us. They have wandered in curious and left inspired. They come back with friends. They stay longer than expected. The call their friend and say "hey, you've gotta come see this place"

That Etsy meets Pinterest idea we believed in from the beginning? It’s working. And in 2026, we’re leaning into it with intention. This space isn’t just about shopping handmade—it’s about touching it, understanding it, and realizing that making something with your own two hands is possible, even if you’ve never tried before.

This year, we’re focusing less on adding more and more, and more on refining what already works. Classes that feel welcoming rather than intimidating. Studio experiences that meet people exactly where they are. Creative moments that value process over perfection.

We are going to continue to embrace challenges, try new things and recognize that growth often comes from overcoming stumbles and uncertainties not from perfection. That’s what learning to fly on the way down means to me.

Here, you don’t have to make “fine” art to be considered an artist or artisan. What matters is that you’re creating and learning. And if you choose to sell your work, the customers will decide what resonates with them—not someone who believes they’re the authority on what counts and what doesn't.

As we move into our third year, this space continues to grow into what it was always meant to be: a creative home where curiosity is encouraged, community happens naturally, and imperfection is part of the beauty.

We’re still becoming.
Still learning.
Still building—one thoughtful decision at a time.

And that feels exactly right.

— Jen