Clay is the medium. Sturdy Studio is everything around it.
Sturdy Studio began with clay, but slowly became much more than that — a way of seeing, living, and bringing nature indoors. This website is a home for the work so far, and for the collections still to come.
Where it all began
I studied fashion design and spent several years working in the industry. Eventually I realised I was making things I no longer felt connected to. Leaving that career wasn’t part of a grand plan. It was simply the first step toward finding work that felt slower, more personal and more honest. Clay happened almost by accident, but it quickly became the medium that made the most sense to me. I studied menswear design and spent the first few years of my career designing clothes. Creativity was always part of my life, but eventually I realised I wanted to build something that felt slower, more personal and entirely my own. Then life changed. I became a mother. For a while, that became my whole world, and I genuinely loved it. But somewhere along the way, I also began looking for a creative practice that belonged just to me. When Sid was six months old, I enrolled in a pottery class, expecting nothing more than a new hobby. I never imagined it would quietly become the beginning of Sturdy Studio.
The way I see
Working with clay changed far more than what I make. It changed how I pay attention. I rarely begin with an object. I begin with a feeling, a memory, or something I cannot stop noticing. The way a vine drapes over stone. The rhythm of water finding its path. The changing relationship I had with my own body through motherhood. I spend time understanding why these moments stay with me before they become part of my work. Every piece begins there. Clay gives me a way to translate those observations into something tangible. Not by recreating what I see, but by distilling its essence into a new form. The result is rarely a literal representation of nature or experience. It is my interpretation of it. The process itself has shaped how I live. Repetition has taught me that every stage is temporary. The first attempt teaches. The next reveals something new. With enough patience, your hands eventually understand what your mind cannot yet explain. That belief reaches far beyond the studio. It has changed how I approach challenges, uncertainty and growth, both as an artist and as a person. My work is simply where those lessons become visible.
What keeps me in the studio
I’m endlessly fascinated by the places where nature quietly takes over. Roots pushing through cracks. Water settling between rocks. Moss finding somewhere to grow. Weathered bark. Old walls collecting stories over time. Most of my work begins with those observations. Clay simply lets me hold onto them a little longer.