Hi, I’m Allison
When I’m not chasing dogs, or kids, you can find me making pottery in my make-shift garage studio in Venice, CA. Sometimes I’m writing, sometimes I’m making stuff, but I’m almost always singing out loud and imperfectly.
My journey didn’t kick off with clay; I cut my teeth producing reality tv. But parenthood can shift focus of your life; it can and often does, shake you awake to what you really want out of life. So in a way, I became born again myself.
My obsession with clay was began in a small local studio on Sunset Ave. here in Venice, (hence the name “Born on Sunset”). What began as just a weekly class to have some creative time for myself and a break from full-time momming, quickly morphed into a complete infatuation with clay and before I knew it I was doing everything in my power to cobble together a home studio so I could be on my wheel as much as my life would allow me to be.
I found early success selling in OWL, a local shop here, and also online. I was even asked to host a pop-up event at West Elm, had my work featured in Parents magazine. I taught classes, hosted workshops - I was a one-woman pottery-parenting machine!
I found my life felt purposeful but the imbalance of work and home life began to burn me out, and then BAM.
Global pandemic.
When lots of folks were filling their newfound “free time” just getting to know pottery, I had to leave it behind. At first I welcomed the “break” but little did I know the next thing to break, would be me.
My husband was constantly traveling for work and so there wasn’t anyone else here to take care of the house, kids, and dogs… but me. Covid meant I had little to no help from family or friends and my glaze buckets sat outside for so long, the labels faded and peeled away.
When the world shut down, our daughter was in third grade and our son was in kindergarten. Through our nightmarish “virtual learning” experience, I came to the full realization that both of my children were neurodivergent and both were suffering. Then then I lost my dog, my three remaining grandparents and two of my closest female friendships. What I gained was a real fear of getting back to working with clay.
But I got through it. My kids are set with the professional care and accomodations at school they deserve, I worked with two talented therapists who helped untangle my mind and put my needs first and eventually, I found my way back to clay.
All of the pieces that come from my hands and thoughts from my mind, are the product of my curious stumbling, my desire to make things and my need for connection.
