Hold Pottery

We're calling this Hold. Because that's what these pieces do, quite literally, hold your coffee, your tea, whatever you're drinking. But it holds more than that: the physical feeling of two hands wrapped around a warm cup, the journey from our hands holding the clay to yours holding the cup, the family and friends we hold onto through whatever life brings, the space we hold for our own emotions, for growth, for whatever comes next.

All of it started with my dad.

My dad has been making pottery, on and off, for over ten years. Never anything serious, just a hobby he returns to whenever life gives him the room for it, and quietly sets aside when it doesn't. An engineer his whole career, he spent his working life designing machines, systematic, logical, exacting, always thinking several steps ahead, always thinking through every way something could fail. Over his career, he also became the person others turned to for the hardest problems, mentoring them, helping them succeed, called in whenever something complex needed solving. But there's another side of him too, the one that gardens for hours, paints old pots just because, and quietly makes things with his hands. I have watched those two sides of him exist side by side for as long as I can remember. And the older I get, the more I realize how much of that I embody too.

These are the pieces we make together. An idea talked through, worked on side by side, sometimes his hand leading, sometimes mine, always a little of each of us in it. Making these with him, slowly, unhurried, without needing any of it to be perfect, is its own kind of joy. But more than that, it's about honoring who my dad is, and how he shaped me.

This isn't a product line. We're not making cups to sell cups. Every piece here comes from time spent together, from his hands and mine, and if it means something to you the way it means something to us, we'd love for it to find its way to your table.

Every piece we make is unique. Even when pieces share the same idea, none turn out quite alike, the clay, the glaze, the technique, the hands, the day, none of it repeats. So if you fall for a piece, know it's the only one there will ever be.

The first concept we are working on is a series of cups called Luscious: curvy, no handle, with a thick, generous lip, made to slow you down and let a coffee's tactile qualities really shine. It felt right as a place to start.