First birds, first pots

Letting some things end so others can begin

2024 was a big year for me. Not least, I started this newsletter, but that was only one of the several challenges of the year that just ended. As we now enter a new year, I wanted to go back over what made 2024 memorable. The good and the bad.

Photo by Olah Renáta Adrienn on Unsplash

Exit 2024

That was going to be the main topic of this first newsletter of the year, but then I changed my mind.

This end of year review is not something I usually do at all. In the past, I have tended to regard this seemingly arbitrary beginning as exactly that. No biggy. December ends, January starts. A different month in a year with a different number. For years now, I haven’t even celebrated this passage in any special way, and it is only in the last 4 years or so that I am even staying up past midnight because our daughter sees it as the perfect opportunity to prolong her bedtime. There’s talk of fireworks but, in the end, not even she enjoys them (and the dog least of all). We do watch the same movie every year though (My Neighbour Totoro), and that has become a family tradition. Apart from this… no resolutions, no big decisions, no grand realisations.

This time though, it feels different. I feel different. If I were to analyse it, I would say it’s no doubt due to all the new reading I’m doing. All the new reading prompting me to see better, to pay attention, to take notice. So I am.

And I am thinking that all this paying attention and reflecting on what 2024 brought will help prepare for whatever 2025 has in store and even, perhaps, or in fact, hopefully, help me better articulate what it is that I would like to achieve, how I see my work evolve, where I hope to take this newsletter and where I see myself in one year’s time.

However, like I said above, I will not do it here. As much as I have read that everyone enjoys bullet points and lists and top tens, I will spare you mine.¹

Enter the blackbirds

Before giving you an update on what I have been doing in the studio, I’ll tell you about something I read that sparked my curiosity and led me to the blackbird. To two blackbirds, in fact.

It all started with this quote from this article, from Orion magazine:

In birding circles, they say the first bird you see in a new year sets the tone for what follows. Anything can be meaningful if you see it as a sign.

I thought back and remembered that, after the grey and gloomy last weeks of December, during which the only movement in the garden seemed to come from the crazy winds, I opened the curtains late in the morning of the first day of January² and there, on the deck, pecking at the crumbs from the previous night’s dinner, were two blackbirds. They stopped what they were doing for a moment and looked up, just long enough to ascertain that I was not a threat, before carrying on with their feast. I was very happy to see them, but didn’t think much of it, blackbirds being a common sight in the garden throughout the year.

But, after reading that article, I decided to see it as a sign and make it meaningful.

And so, I went looking.

In spiritual terms, blackbirds often symbolise the unknown and encourage you to explore the hidden aspects of life. They represent intuition, insight, and a connection to the mystical. (…)

When you encounter a blackbird, it may be a reminder to trust your instincts and listen to your inner voice. Just as the blackbird confidently moves through the world, you are encouraged to follow your own path, even if it leads you into uncharted territories.³

And also:

In many cultures, blackbirds are considered guides between the worlds of the living and the dead. This doesn't necessarily mean death in a literal sense, but more about endings and new beginnings, helping you let go of what no longer serves you so you can embrace transformation.⁴

Having struggled with the decision to leave my regular spot at the market and thus be left with only the Shelf as a physical point of sales, I decided the sight of the blackbirds was a confirmation that I had done the right thing, that the market was no longer “serving me” and I was right to let it go.

It was not an easy decision, but now I see it as something that had to end so other things could begin. What those other things are remains to be seen, but the year has just started so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

It seems, then, that I have a bird guide for the year that now begins and I couldn’t be happier that it is the blackbird. I am ready to embrace transformation, follow my own path and explore uncharted territories. Bring it on, 2025.

Symbolisms aside, blackbirds are extremely clever and I always enjoy working in the veg patch under their watchful gaze, one eye on me and one on the potential worm I may accidentally unearth. I like to imagine they have a nickname for me — The One That Makes Our Job Easier, or The Worm One, or some such.

And I am thinking that the blackbird will very likely make an appearance in my pottery, just as the swift did last year.

In the studio

Which brings me to… What have I been up to in the studio? Well, “not much” is the short answer. After the last glaze firing, I cleaned and tidied up. Then, the holidays started, and for several days I didn’t set foot in there. Then, last week, I started by reclaiming clay. The first batch, I wedged and used to roll the first slab of the year.

I “inherited” (from a friend who retired from pottery) quite a lot of underglazes (some rather old, from brands that no longer exist), including some in powder form, which I had never seen before. I decided to test them not by making loads of small test tiles but by using them on rectangular panels (or tiles). I realise it’s a risk but I figured that I could end up with a really interesting collection, and at worst, I can always break them up and use the pieces in a mosaic for the house.⁵

I started with blues and purple.

I have a few more different blues and I think I will make one just with those. Then greens, yellows, reds, and so on.

My plan for this year, if I can call it that, is to focus on larger pieces, on decorative pieces. Panels like the one above or larger, in sets or standalone. Vases too, or maybe large serving plates or platters. Take my usual serving rectangular tray to a new level, so to speak.

And play more with the wild clay slips. I started already with the ones from Porto Santo (you can read more about those here). A set of three panels.

I am pleased with how these are coming along and will finish them during the coming week. I won’t take them to much higher than 1000 ºC and will probably not glaze them at all, or only apply a very very thin layer of glaze, just enough for the colours to pop without burning out or changing too much. I want to retain the ochre tones as much as possible, avoid them all turning red. Of course, being flat, these will need to dry extra slowly, and, given the fact that I just started, it will be a while before I have enough pieces to fire the kiln. Not a problem, I’m not in a hurry.

On the day this letter will go out to you, life goes back to a more normal routine as school starts. I can’t say I am not looking forward to it, though it always feels a bit selfish to think that… Still, after any so called “holidays” I always feel like I need time off (and by time off, I mean time in the studio) and this season is no exception.

As always, thank you so much for reading and I will see you next time.

Sara xx

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If you would like to see my work

My Etsy store just got a bit of a facelift and I invite you to take a look at the new mugs and trays. I am also on Instagram, though more and more I wish I weren’t.

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And if you know someone who would also enjoy reading Clay on my mind, consider sharing it with them.

1. Related to this, you can check this post, from

The Isolation Journals with Suleika Jaouad. Her five lists idea sounds appealing and I may give it a go.

2. Could have been the second day...

3. Full article can be found here: https://www.centreofexcellence.com/the-spiritual-meaning-of-blackbirds/#1

4. Ibid.

5. When we bought the house, there was a mosaic sunflower on one of the outside walls; unfortunately, because of the overall state of the building, in order to rebuild, we had to remove it — and destroy it in the process —, but we’ve wanted to restore the sunflower ever since.