Shaping Stillness: A Journey into Pottery and building Community Through Clay
In a sunlit studio nestled in the heart of Los Angeles where the city's bustle never seems to rest, a different rhythm unfolds within the walls of Still Life Ceramics. Here, clay spins quietly on wheels, molded by hands that find calm and meaning in its earthy simplicity. At the center of this studio is Mel Keedle, a ceramic artist originally from Melbourne, Australia, whose life was transformed by the quiet, meditative act of shaping clay.
When Mel first moved to the United States ten years ago, she wasn’t expecting to become a potter. “I didn’t do pottery in Australia,” she says with a laugh. “I started when I came here, about nine and a half years ago, after taking a beginner class at a community studio. I fell in love with it immediately.” It was this serendipitous discovery that would lead her to co-found Still Life Ceramics six years ago, alongside her business partner, Ana Henton, whom she met in that very class.
The studio has since become more than just a place for production and retail; it’s a sanctuary for those seeking to work with their hands, offering classes for all levels, from beginners just learning to center clay on a wheel to advanced potters refining their craft. But for Mel, Still Life Ceramics is also a reflection of her personal journey—one defined by the touch of clay, the patience it demands, and the community it fosters.
The Meditative Art of Pottery
“For me, it's the throwing,” Mel says, describing the act of shaping clay on the wheel. “The first step of throwing is called centering, and it's truly like centering. You have to slow down, you can't be on your phone. Your hands are covered in mud. You kind of have to breathe through it.” In the fast-paced world of modern life, pottery offers her an escape—a meditative retreat where the hands guide the mind toward stillness.
This slowing down, this focus, is what drew Mel to the craft in the first place. As a newcomer to the U.S., without a work visa, she was searching for something to occupy her time and ground her in a new, unfamiliar place. Pottery, with its tactile demands and creative outlet, provided exactly that. “When I first moved to the U.S., I just needed something to do with my hands. Pottery became this meditative escape, giving me something creative and functional to focus on. It gave me a sense of purpose and connected me to a community.”
The Physicality of Clay
But pottery isn’t just about calm and mindfulness; it’s a deeply physical practice as well. “It takes a lot of muscle... not brute strength, but a lot of subtle strength,” she explains. “You really need to know how to move your hands, your fingers, to shape the clay properly.” With each rotation of the wheel, Mel's hands guide the clay, subtly adjusting pressure, feeling its texture, moisture, and resistance. “You just have to touch the clay,” she says. “That’s the only way to learn it.”
The process of learning pottery is humbling. It’s not something that comes easily, nor can it be rushed. “As a beginner, you're not going to pick it up right away,” she says. “It's an exercise in letting go, and seeing what your hands can do.” Her years of experience have taught her that rushing only leads to frustration. “Anytime I try to rush, that’s when I mess it up,” she admits. “There’s a constantly humbling exercise in slowing down and not rushing.”
The Tactile Connection to Everyday Life
For Mel, working with clay isn’t just about creating art—it’s about creating functional pieces that enhance daily life. “I love making something that’s both creative and functional. Having something super functional at the end is really satisfying.” Whether it’s a coffee mug, a breakfast bowl, or a vase, Mel’s work adds beauty to the ordinary, reminding people of the craftsmanship behind everyday objects.
And it’s not just about the finished product. For Mel, the tactile experience of ceramics is a central part of the joy. “People who aren’t around ceramics are nervous to touch, but I always tell them, ‘Feel free to touch anything. Get a feel for it. That’s what it’s there for.’” In a world where touch is often restricted to screens and digital devices, the simple act of holding a handmade mug can foster a deeper connection to the present moment—and to the hands that made it.
Building a Community Through Clay
Still Life Ceramics, at its core, is a community space. It’s a place where people can come together, disconnect from the distractions of everyday life, and reconnect with their creativity. “We started because we needed more space for our work,” Mel explains, “but I was also teaching at the time and didn’t want to lose that. So, we decided to go bigger, put in more wheels, and open it up for teaching. I just love teaching so much—it’s my favorite part of the job.”
Teaching pottery, however, is not without its challenges. “It’s tough to communicate the subtle shifts in your movement or feel of the clay. These tiny adjustments come from practice, and that’s something you can’t fast-track.” But it’s precisely these challenges that make the experience so rewarding for both teacher and student. Watching her students navigate the same frustrations and breakthroughs she once faced is, for Mel, a deeply fulfilling part of her work.
Beyond the classroom, Mel’s studio has become a family affair. Her five-year-old son sometimes joins her in the studio, creating his own little works of art. “He loves making pinch pots and even made an Xbox controller out of clay,” she says with a smile. “It’s fun to see him enjoy it, though I haven’t gotten him on the wheel yet.”
Even during the pandemic, when so many were forced to stay home, Mel found ways to keep the connection to clay alive. “We brought some clay home and played around,” she recalls. “Now, my son comes into the studio sometimes and gets his hands dirty, but my one-year-old just gets dusty!”
Creativity, Commerce, and the Future
Running a ceramics studio is a balancing act between personal creativity and commercial demands. “I dream of taking a residency and just being weird and creative,” she says wistfully. “Right now, I keep things pretty classic, but there’s still a part of me that craves that freedom to experiment.” For now, however, she’s content with the studio she’s built—a space that not only supports her artistic vision but also provides a creative haven for others.
Still Life Ceramics continues to grow, and with it, the community of potters, students, and families who find peace and purpose in the act of shaping clay. As Mel’s hands guide the wheel, she also guides the next generation of ceramic artists, teaching them the value of patience, the importance of touch, and the beauty in slowing down.
In the end, it all comes back to the clay. “It gives you a new appreciation for the items we use every day,” Mel reflects. “You realize how much work goes into making something by hand.” And through that appreciation, a new connection is formed—between the artist, the object, and the world around us.
For more info, please visit Still Life Ceramics.