The Making of The Sanctuary Collection
Tomorrow, The Sanctuary Collection is being released. It’s a body of work I’ve shaped slowly by hand, and it’s rooted in rhythm and reflection.
Before it leaves my studio and enters the world, I wanted to share what the making looks like from the inside: the quiet steps, the repetition, and the patience that bring each piece to life.
First, it always begins with words. Each morning, before the day fills with noise and schedules and tasks, I write my “morning pages.” I try to write until I’ve hit three pages, ending with a blessing for my morning self, getting ready to start the day. When I go back to reread them, some of those words linger, meant to be shared and become something more tangible: something that can be seen and held.
From there, I photograph. I look for places and scenes that match the tone of the words: the way a tree reflection rests on a body of water, or how sunlight dances on the walls of a room. I use these photographs as direct references, using an iPad to create light and dark spaces that form the foundation of each piece.
Once that feels right, I trace the drawing onto a block of linoleum with transfer paper and begin to carve. The carving is slow, steady work, and each cut adds light to the final image. It’s a rhythm I know by heart now: quiet, intentional, and full of small pauses (& usually a good audiobook).
When the carving is complete, I roll ink across the surface and press it onto fine art paper on a small printing press. Each print is inked by hand, one at a time. The process leaves space for surprise, for the texture of the block and the pressure of the press to leave their own subtle mark. No two impressions are quite the same.
Then, in the clay studio, the words find their way back in. I hand-build each cup and ornament, shaping them one by one, then add the text letter by letter while the clay is still soft. Some are words of blessing, others are words of self-advocacy and cultural resistance, others are small truths or reminders meant to be carried into daily life. All my words for this collection began with the theme of sanctuary. The words sink into the surface of the clay, becoming both message and delicious texture.
The pieces dry slowly before they’re bisque-fired, painted with glaze, and then glaze-fired, sealing them for use. The process of filling the kiln often takes weeks. There’s no rushing it; clay work needs to dry fully before firing and to cool fully after a firing. It insists on pausing to wait patiently at each stage, lest it will (literally) explode in the kiln. The pace itself is part of what makes this work feel alive with that sanctuary feeling.
When everything is finished - the prints dried on the racks and the ceramics cooled from the kiln - I have the privilege of seeing them all together, taking them in as I photograph them to share. It’s always humbling to see how far the work has come from those first words on paper.
The Sanctuary Collection is, at its core, an invitation to slow down.
Every mark, word, and impression carries the evidence of slow rhythm and human touch. Each piece was made to hold a small sense of calm - the kind that comes when we remember to move gently through our own becoming.
Tomorrow, I’ll share the full collection. Tonight, I’m simply grateful to have the privilege of making it.
May your own hands find their rhythm.
May you move at a pace that allows room for wonder and rest.
With love,
Sarah K
If we haven’t met, I’m Sarah K., an artist and writer based in Richmond, VA. From my sunroom studio, I create hand-built ceramics, linocut prints, and written blessings, all shaped by quiet mornings and the rhythm of daily practice.
This reflection is part of my upcoming Sanctuary Collection - a series of hand-carved prints and blessings that invite calm into the noise of everyday life. Be sure you’re on my email list so you don’t miss it.
