More paint-your-own studios are adding clay classes to meet demand. Here's what that shift actually requires, and why the harder problem usually isn't the equipment.

Thinking about leaving teaching to open a studio or start a creative business? Your classroom skills translate. Here’s what I wish someone had told me first. I spent 12 years in public education before I walked away to build something of my own. If you're an educator who can't shake the thought of what comes next, this is the honest version of what leaving looks like, what your skills are actually worth outside a school, and where to start.

Growth without systems just means you're busier. Here's how we built our staffing structure and booking system to actually support four revenue streams, without losing control of the studio in the process.

Classes alone are great, but why not utilize multiple streams of income in your studio? Here's how Mud Hut built memberships, private events, and walk-ins into one connected system, and why thinking of them as separate offerings is the mistake to avoid.

From a backyard shed to $900K in revenue in three years. The real lessons behind growing Mud Hut Pottery Studio, for fellow studio owners.

Artists feel like frauds at business. Business people feel like frauds at the craft. Most studio owners feel both. Here’s why that voice gets so loud when you build something creative, and how to stop letting it make your decisions.

Most creative business owners think their fear of running out of money is about the business. It usually isn’t. It has a birthday that predates the business by decades, and it shows up every time you set a price.

She didn’t ask to leave. She was edged out of a field she’d given decades to, and instead of grieving it, she built something of her own. If you’ve spent years mastering a craft for someone else, her story is worth your time.

There’s one question that tells you more about your studio than any revenue report: if you disappeared for 30 days, would you still have a business? If the honest answer is no, this diagnostic is where to start, and it starts with marketing.

It looks like stability: a full class calendar and regular bookings. But if one revenue source carries your whole studio, you’re sitting on a one-legged stool. Here’s how to build a second stream, and how to market it so it actually works.

Ask most artists what they’d rather do, clean the kiln or post about their own class, and the kiln wins. Marketing feels like bragging, selling, and being judged all at once. Here’s how to start before you feel ready.

When I was broke, I didn’t just have a money problem. I had a money belief problem, and it took me years to realize the second one was what kept me stuck. Many artists carry the same beliefs into their studios without knowing it.

I found this photo recently. It's me, the summer of 1976, at Lake Perris with my family. I am holding on to a kiddie raft, grinning like I don't have a care in the world. I almost didn't post it. Because I know what was happening in that little girl's world that the camera couldn't see. The voice that told her she was too much trouble, too much to deal with, too much full stop, started early and got loud. This post is what I would go back and tell her. And what I want every woman carrying that same voice to hear today.

Years ago, a mentor told me the best thing I could do as a leader was be meek and mild. He meant it as a gift. It took me years to understand what he was really saying, and why so many creative business owners are still following the same advice.

Last night I was dancing at a quinceañera. This morning I was hosting our Mother's Day Tea at Mud Hut. Tonight I am at my desk building my coaching business. This is what entrepreneurship actually looks like. Not the highlight reel. The whole day. You think you are not ready to start the business, launch the idea, make the move. But you have been managing the impossible for years. The job and the kids. The side hustle and the school pickups. The dream you keep carrying while you fold laundry at 10pm. You have been ready. You have been training for this your whole life.

You’d never let a kiln go a year without maintenance. So why does the studio's manager keep getting cut from the budget? Here’s why your own care is part of the work, not a reward for it.

Years ago, as a rookie salesperson full of self-doubt, I wrote a commercial. It wasn’t for Instagram or a website. It was for me. Here’s the exercise, why it works, and how to use it to write the commercial for your studio too.

There’s a moment in every studio owner’s journey when the work changes. The doors are open, people are paying you, and the business has outgrown what you can run on instinct. This is when you stop being a maker with a studio and start being a CEO.

You can be talented, experienced, and fully booked, and still price your work like you’re asking for a favor. That isn’t a skills problem or a market problem. It’s a belief problem, and it’s one of the most expensive ones a creative business can have.

There’s a lie that keeps talented creatives stuck: that you’re supposed to feel ready before you move. We didn’t have a finished space, a polished plan, or a perfect launch. We had a backyard shed and a phone that kept ringing.