I’ve never stuck to a traditional job in my life. I remember being a young undergraduate student, studying science to become a doctor. I scored an internship with a professor at UCSB and lasted only one week at that office. I was creating powerpoints on something that didn’t feel important to me, and stuck focusing on when lunchtime was. Even though I didn’t even have enough cash to eat at the hospital cafeteria. I never got the follow up email week two. Crazy to be fired from a free labor job…
Unusual career trajectories have followed me all my life. My first official paid job was at Pinkberry ($8/hour), where I would over-serve my friends and cut the mangoes a little too thick, really messing up this corporations’ food cost. I still own the uniform’s hat too…It's a prized possession of mine. Years later, while pursuing a career in food and wine, I found myself on a vineyard in Los Olivos, pruning grapevines at a vineyard ($15/hour, cash). I lasted only one week as well, probably because we were all broke and my competition was 5x faster than me.
My journey with ceramics began with $5,000, a little blind confidence, and a drive that, to this day, fuels the day-to-day at The Mud Shop. And ironically, I never really left hospitality. Just because I don’t serve $20 glasses of wine, or course out a nice dinner for a 4-top doesn't mean what we do at the shop isn’t built around moments of guest experience. Hospitality within a pottery business isn’t necessarily offering a beautiful moment that exact evening, it’s rather, giving a piece of myself in a genuine way through my ceramics - all to hopefully live at someone’s home, forever.
I’ve been struggling trying to find time to write lately; the business at Danny D’s Mud Shop has been growing. Each month, we are consistently hitting a stronger metrics from years prior. I'm hiring my sixth employee (i’m the first), and finally converting all aspects of payroll to a W2…Boring, but it’s a huge step for any company. And honestly, this is something I should’ve established earlier, but there’s nothing more intimidating than overhead and payroll in my opinion.
This newsletter, that I’m writing on a beautiful Tuesday morning, was previously titled “Things I’ve Lost Starting My Own Company, and My Plan on How to Find Them Again,” but instead evolved to what we have above. I’m not saying I won’t find the guts to write that article, but for today, I'll address the positives, and a few ways I’ve found personal success in an industry that simply doesn’t harbour much of it.
Welcome to the world of ceramics and enjoy the ride; the uphill push to justify pricing, high costs, absurd labouring hours, and the forever dirty pants--none of them are safe, even the nice ones you thought would be great for dinner that same evening.
Team is everything. If I can give any advice to growing small business owners - make sure to hire people you want to spend a lot of time with. Find people that hold the same values, excitement, and drive. A good team leads to a good product, especially in a handmade goods business. Every step is important, and it’s impossible for one person to handle them all. Something along the lines of, “a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.
Take care of your body. I started to bike to work a few days a week and it changed my life. Los Angeles is a morbid place to commute via bicycle, but once the route is dialed in, it's incredible. I built a 9-mile ride each way to and from home, adding up to nearly 20 miles each day. During these 45 minute rides, I develop a real sense of mental clarity, and feel like a million bucks when I get in. The way I start my day, ripples through the rest of it. If I begin with physical activity, blood flow, and some high energy movement, I can be a better team member, keep my mind in check, and do better work. My job is a very labour intensive one. My back is constantly in strain - wedging clay, sitting on the wheel, throwing, moving boxes, etc. This small moment each day proves to be the reset button I need, and it is what a lot of people overlook.
Generosity. The art of knowing when to give, and watching as it comes back tenfold. This point plays towards point 8 on this list. I’ve always considered myself a generous person, perhaps it was the training in hospitality or my mother being too good to me. I pay attention to every name that hits our order sheet. I notice how many times they’ve ordered, what they bought, and where it’s being shipped. Any opportunity to touch base, hand-write a thank you note, or add in an extra small piece of ceramic is what takes a simple purchase to an experience. I hold a lot of empathy with my buyers, and this sounds corny, but I genuinely want my customers to feel immense value. When we get orders to Australia for a small item (sub $30), and pay $40 to ship, this must really mean they want my work. And we'll need a personal thank you note for that. Two big vases to NYC? Need a note for this. Maybe even a cup to round out the collection. Big package to Singapore - definitely an extra copita. Similar to when you become a regular at a restaurant, maybe the dessert is on the house, or the server wants you to try a new dish the team is working on. It’s unnecessary, but it certainly makes you want to come back again.
You never know where your next business opportunity exists. This one I’ll take to my grave. I haven’t learnt much over the years, but if I can be adamant on one thing, it’s that business opportunities come from the most unexpected places and people. My next client is probably hiding under a rock, waiting to buy my cup because I had a conversation with them 5 years ago at a bus stop. Treat everyone well, be humble, try to remember names (I'm so bad with this) and believe that natural, good fortune always comes back at unexpected times.
Be authentic, believe in the work you’re making. Absorb and watch, but don't follow. I believe what has helped our small brand gain any sort of traction and the identity it holds. You can see our work from a mile away - it has character, and most importantly, a through line. Everything from the $27 Copita to the $1,000 lamp shade. In the beginning, even within the slower months, I stood strong on the illustrative style that has been consistent over the years. And as I watch the style develop, I consistently remind myself to reel things back in from time to time to maintain what we built everything on.
The beauty and struggle of working with your partner. Communication and understanding. This deserves its own substack article, but working with your partner is not for the weak. It takes commitment, understanding, and a lot of communication. A lot of resolution too, as emotions and feelings can get heated. But if it works, it's a beautiful partnership.
Always find time to improve…and not being afraid of continuing to build, even if the doors are open for business. What you invest in your space, comes back to you in different ways. I believe beauty in art comes from a beautiful place; in our case, our storefront. Every day I walk into the Mud Shop, I feel inspired. I often forget to look up, but when I do, it's always “wow.” (We have 30 foot ceilings)
Nurture relationships, and build long term contracts. This point is obviously related to wholesale business relations, but that's boring. Here's a realtime example with a client whose name I'll leave blank.
Last year, we got a new client, and as the months went on, I noticed the second, third, and even fourth order from this person. On his fourth order, he emailed and asked if we had the wine cup with a certain image on it for his daughter - one of our most popular designs. It was unfortunately sold out. When it came time to ship out, we snuck one in, albeit in a different shape, but nonetheless we did our best to make the gesture.
We are now on this persons’ 9th order since November.
Be careful of your time. We all overbook ourselves each week. It’s the nature of life, having friends, and running a business. After four years of running The Mud Shop, I just recently started taking consistent days off and end work at a normal time. Each week, I realistically have 45-55 hours to get what I need to get done, done. Granted, this is pure studio work - no emails, substack writing, or meetings (so ya’ll decide if you consider that work.) The reality of this time constraint is that I can only give myself away so much. I can’t take every meeting, every interview, opportunity, or even dinner with my friends in the evening. I even stoped taking phone calls unless it was a confirmed business opportunity. As I get older, and hopefully a little wiser, protecting my peace becomes increasingly more important.
It may be true that the life I dreamt of living is probably unobtainable now, given my new circumstances, but the life I’ve built is something I’ll never take for granted. As long as we have a small spot within the conversation of interesting ceramics, I’ll be happy. Thank you for reading
Thank you for sharing your wisdom! I’m finally taking my ceramics more seriously and trying to grow a business from it so this was very helpful! ✨
I love this! I have a different small business (a pousada, like a b&b, in Brazil), but I relate to so much of this