I’m incredibly honored to be selected as Ceramic Artist of the Year by the editorial staff of Ceramics Monthly and Pottery Making Illustrated. The news came just as I was stepping away from my 20-year teaching career to focus on my creative practice and building Artaxis, which made it even more special to me.

There are way too many people to thank here, but please know how much I appreciate everyone who has helped me along the way: my mentors, my friends, the people in the creative community who have given me opportunities, and everyone who has offered their support and guidance. My parents, who set an early example for me to follow as I’ve crafted my own goals and intentions. My wife, Tiffany, for always believing in me, even when I’m not at my best. And a shout-out to my former students, who kept me thinking creatively every day.

In the interview, I talk about how community has shaped nearly every part of my life in clay. Skateboarding led me to photography, art school led me to my first clay class, and my fellow artists at Northern Arizona University led me to pursue ceramics professionally. That same idea, artists supporting artists, is why I started Artaxis in 2005, and it’s a big part of why I decided to leave teaching to focus on it full time. I also talk about two important mentors, Don Bendel and Paul McCoy, the architectural themes in my work, and why I think curating and creating opportunities for other artists are creative acts too. The interview ends the way I often end my artist lectures: by recognizing that we’ve all learned from others, and now it’s our turn to pay that forward.

Now that I’m working on Artaxis full time, I’m excited to keep building it into something that can support even more artists for the next 20 years. I’m also settling into a new studio in Charleston and looking forward to seeing where the work goes from here.

Huge thank you to the editors at Ceramics Monthly and Pottery Making Illustrated. And to Jess Amburgey for taking awesome photos of me in my studio for the article!

Check out the full 2026 Ceramic Arts Yearbook

BIG LIFE CHANGES! Tiffany, June and I have moved to Charleston, South Carolina for her to start a new position at the College of Charleston and for me to focus exclusively on bringing Artaxis into it’s next chapter. For over 20 years, I’ve always done Artaxis on the side, as a volunteer, while juggling an academic position that was being made more difficult by an increasingly unsuppportive administration. As the stress of that arrangement increased year over year, it became too much. This past year was my 20th year teaching outside of grad school – 2 years at Baylor University and 18 years at IU Southeast. I turned 50 years old the same year Artaxis turned 20, and the same year as my 20th year teaching. Leading up to those milestones, I couldn’t help but think: I don’t want to get to the end of my life and regret not trying to do Artaxis as a fulltime endeavor. I don’t want to be on my deathbed and ask myself, “What if?”. So, I’m doing it. We’re doing it. I already had an unpaid leave approved from school to work on Artaxis this coming year, but I’ll be resigning soon and taking the leap to go after my dreams fulltime.

I think I’ve taught somewhere around 1,000 students in my career and working with them (you, if you’re a former student and reading this) has been one of the greatest honors of my life. No matter how bad the administration was, I never took for granted the incredible opportunity to work with so many amazing students. All of the studio improvements and work I put in to build the IUS Ceramics program – I didn’t do it for the university. I did it for the students. Those students are out there in the world carrying that legacy forward, the legacy that my teachers gave me and the teachers of my teachers gave them. The university can never take that away from me, so while I reflect on stepping away from teaching, I’m thinking about all those millions of tiny little moments of progress. Yes, there were some big breakthroughs, but it was the everyday moments of creative expression that I loved the most. I plan to continue that excitement through my work on Artaxis 🙂

I’m excited for the next chapter, but it’s going to be a lot of work to get there. I ask that you consider joining me in bringing Artaxis into the next phase of it’s trajectory. And to everyone that has ever supported me along this path, my friends and colleagues, my parents, my wife and daughter, the Artaxis Board of Directors, my students and everyone I’ve worked with so far, I thank you. Thank you for believing in me and trusting me to do this work.

Let’s goooooooo! ❤️

My daughter coloring an image of Sam Chung’s vases

Earlier this year, I read Oliver Burkeman’s “Meditations for Mortals“, and in the book, there’s a quote from the artist Chuck Close that I’ve found myself returning to. It’s been one of those quotes that keeps sneaking back into my brain when I’m trying to fall asleep, or waiting in line somewhere, or daydreaming in a faculty meeting. So, I decided to take a moment on this blog to write about it. The quote is: “Inspiration is for amateurs – the rest of us just show up and get to work.“

As a ceramics professor, I’ve seen students paralyzed by the belief that they need to wait for some magical spark of inspiration before beginning their work. They sit, staring at the clay or their sketchbook, hoping for some revolutionary idea to suddenly jump into them. I must say that I’ve also felt this in my own practice. Sometimes, I get stuck thinking and cannot seem to get started on anything. In these moments, you have to just get to work.

Close isn’t suggesting that inspiration doesn’t exist or isn’t valuable. Instead, he’s pointing out a crucial idea: that inspiration most often comes through the work itself, not before it.

As I thought more about this idea, I remembered a quote I read in Angela Duckworth’s book “Grit“. She references William James’ observation that “There is no more miserable human being than the one for whom the beginning of every bit of work must be decided anew each day.” While this is a bit dramatic, his point complements Close’s point. The agony of deciding whether to begin, waiting for the perfect moment, or the perfect idea, creates far more challenge than simply establishing a practice of showing up and starting.

When we develop routines and habits around our creative practice, we bypass the psychological friction that comes with deliberation. The ceramicist Warren Mackenzie, also quoted in “Grit,” noted that “The first 10,000 pots are difficult, and then it gets a little bit easier.” This isn’t just about technical skill – it’s about developing the mental habit of beginning without overthinking.

So, how can you get started on something today?

I finished a new work last week, got it photographed (had to lower the table of my photo booth to make it fit), and it’s headed to the State of Clay in Indiana exhibition at the Indiana Clay Conference in Muncie, Indiana.

There are more images and descriptions (including this work) of the Bunker Series works HERE.

This work was another slow one for me. I worked on the piece on and off for several months, pausing many times during the building and coming back to it, sometimes weeks later. Then, when I was almost finished, I paused on it for another couple of weeks while I considered several bunker forms for the top. The work is taller than others in the series, 30″ high in total.

The work is headed to the State of Clay in Indiana exhibition at the Indiana Clay Conference. If you’re not headed to the conference, you should be!

Anyway, it always feels good to finish a new work, and I’m excited to get a new one started.

Creek on Nine Penny hike

Now that I’m restarting this blog after a short 9-year hiatus, I thought I’d start with a little post about some gratitude I’m having for the days spent hiking with my daughter. She has been getting into hiking lately (at least short distances) and I’m soaking it up – especially in this absolutely beautiful weather we’re having in mid-to-late May in Indiana.

I’ve always wanted to ensure that my daughter develops an appreciation for nature and a desire to be outdoors, so when I’ve the opportunity to get her outside, I try to take it every time. On this particular day, we hiked the Nine Penny Branch trail outside of Charlestown, Indiana. We had our friend Eve with us, and we just had a blast. Seeing the two explore the creek, searching for cool rocks and odd bugs, warmed my heart.

I know it’s a privilege getting outside like this, but I hope you’re able to find time with the trees as well.

My daughter and I and an LVA opening reception. I’m not sure who took this photo, but it’s up on the LVA website on the page where you sign up for their newsletter.

Ok, I know. It’s been a while – this blog hasn’t been updated by anyone (me) in a very long time. The irony is that my advanced students in ceramics at IUS Ceramics are required to maintain a weekly blog of their progress in the studio. Each week, they write and post pictures about whatever progress they’ve seen in their studios that week. We understand and appreciate that “progress” can mean many things – sometimes it’s great finished work, but often progress comes in the form of pieces that are duds, failures, experiments, and idea generation. My students archive it and write about it each week. They absolutely love it .. well, maybe not “love” it. I say they love it, and they say they don’t (we agree to disagree on that particular point).

Anyway, while I often tout the benefits of writing about your work, I realized that I wasn’t following my own teachings. I’ve neglected this practice and let my blog lapse (albeit, only for 9 years). But still! In any event, I decided to practice what I preach and breathe new life into my blog.

I will now attempt to write more often than once every 9 years.

Thanks for reading!

Brian

 
This is an exhibition I organized for my advanced students in the Ceramics Program at IU Southeast. Myself and Chanda Zea, the current IUS Ceramics Resident Artist, also exhibited our work alongside them in the exhibition. The exhibition was titled CONNECT, and took place in the Blackburn Gallery at the Mary Anderson Art Center in Floyds Knobs, Indiana in April 2016.
 

Hi all –

An update from sabbatical land ..

It’s been a productive sabbatical so far –  4 new works made for the “Sweet home …” show at Zephyr Gallery, much work on the Standardized Test for Congress, then a new 3D printed and digital projection work for the IUS faculty show (also showing my Standardized Test there), now starting a new work for a show that Ben Ahlvers curated me into at the Lawrence Arts Center in Lawrence, KS.

When I began my sabbatical, one of my (many) goals was to establish a daily or weekly routine that could allow me to maintain more contact with my research and creative activity as I moved back into teaching and my regular school activities.  As those that have been in a tenure track teaching position can attest to, it’s not easy balancing all of the commitments one has at school with your research and other life commitments.  To be honest, I’ve really struggled with that during the last few years and have consequently been a little out of touch with some of the ideas in my work lately.

Enter sabbatical.  One of the really amazing things about sabbatical is that right now I can have the mind-space to establish that routine and figure out how to make new work in my new life.  Things are different now.  I have way more things on my plate, more responsibilities and commitments, and I think I may not have put enough emphasis on establishing a new routine for a new life.  It’s as if I thought that the same routine would work for a much different way of living.  Grad school days are WAY over (thankfully), but I can’t expect a routine that worked then, to work now.  Or even a routine that worked when I taught at Baylor (when I had way less on my plate) to work now.  So, new goal: find a new routine that works in my life as it is right now.  Must be productive and proactive, but also balanced and reflective.

In my new bullet journal, I started a list called “Find routine”.  One of the things on that list is doing a daily 20 minutes of distraction free (relatively for me) writing about some topic.  This is the first day of that.  I wanted to start doing this at the beginning of my sabbatical, but better to do it now than never, so here we go.  That was 18 minutes .. now 2 minutes for proofreading.  🙂

Things are on the up.

Brian

My advanced students keep a weekly blog about their progress in the studio throughout the semester. At the end of this semester, I asked them to reflect on the semester, prompting them with a few questions. One of the questions I asked them was .. What gets you up in the morning? What gets you to the studio?

Their answers are inspiring and remind me of some of the reasons I am engaged in my own studio practice …

“My son, my family, my art, my housework and my alarm gets me up in the morning. I come to the studio to center myself and some clay and remind myself that no matter how crazy and off center the world (or my clay) gets, it can be shaped into something beautiful or at the very least useful with a little time, practice, and work”.

“I come to the studio each day because it’s fun. I love the experience of starting from nothing, making the clay, wedging it, wedging it, wedging it, then throwing on the wheel to create something that I can take home and use and know that I had a hand in every creative process that it took for that work to exist. It satisfies me, and knowing that that piece could survive and be discovered thousands of years from now makes me feel a little invincible.”

“I look forward to going to the studio because it acts as my escape from the real world. I love being creative and seeing what I can make each day.”

“I want to bring a happiness to people. People’s lives are hectic and hard, and I want to give people a little haven from all that. This is what gets me in the studio and up in the morning.”

“Originally I made pots simply because I wanted to. But now it is immensely more personal than that; even beyond my comprehension. So everyday I can make pots is a day I spend on the forefront of my self, and that’s what makes me get out of bed in the morning. I belong to it.”

“I like to work; I enjoy what I do. I like the studio, every single studio, studios in general; I’m fortunate to be at a local school, with good studios and teachers and students I get along with and like. It’s amazing, and I’m grateful for the opportunities I have.”

So, what gets you up in the morning? What gets you to the studio?

I recently submitted a grant application where I had to write a short statement of my goals and aspirations.  I had a lot of fun writing it, so I just thought I’d share it.  Here it is …

I am deeply committed to a life of learning.  I believe in the quest for knowledge in a broad sense, understanding that knowledge comes from a range of pursuits: experience, mentorship, self-discovery, and searching for (and into) the things that offer wonderment and excitement.

I am an artist, an educator, and someone who feels an innate responsibility to contribute.  With this in mind, I pursue my interests not as novelty, but as motivation to become better at what I do.  As experience is gained, so too is the responsibility to give back to others – through the reach and breadth of my artwork, the example and mentorship I give my students, and by my efforts to broaden the opportunities available to others in my field.

Ultimately, I pursue these interests in search of new experience, working to synthesize these efforts in search of a better whole.