“Create an environment where you’re free to express what you’re afraid to express.”

-Rick Rubin

This is the first post in a series about how The Willa Workshops on willawanders.com came to be. It’s kind of a long story, and I don’t know how many people will find it interesting, but my intuition is telling me to write this, so I’m just going to go with that.

When I was a kid, I loved arts and crafts (can you relate?). My parents didn’t have extra money so I made due with whatever scraps of stuff came my way: cardboard boxes, cut off fabric bits from my mother’s and grandmother’s projects. Needles and thread were always on the table at our house and I learned how to sew on a vintage Singer as soon as my feet could touch the pedal.

My mom would often ask me if I wanted to take “art lessons” or even go to a fancy design school when I grew up, but I was much too insecure to do much of anything other than craft quietly by myself or with my neighborhood friends. I was low key obsessed with doll houses and the adorable yet fine furniture and fixings that were sold behind sliding glass at a local stationery and gift store. I wanted those things so much, but it wasn’t even an option. So I made things out of tape and cardboard and fabric and stuffing and that was my dollhouse.

I never lost my love of art and craft, but the older I got the more I became convinced that I needed to get a job that would pay a lot of money so that I wouldn’t have to worry so much about financial security. Long story short, I let my dad convince me to go to law school, even after I told him I wanted to go work for a while after college and then consider business school.

Within my first week at UCLA School of Law, I realized I had made a terrible mistake. I wasn’t even interested in law, I was only interested in financial security. Being in a place that I didn’t belong was so stressful that I developed a pretty bad case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

I convinced my parents to let me take a break from school after I finished up my first year of law school. I decided that the best option at that point was to get a job at a law firm to make absolutely sure that I did not want to practice law.

I landed my first “real” job at the Los Angeles law firm that the television show LA Law was modeled after. The firm’s office was on the 17th, 18th and 19th floor of the building that many people know as Nokatomi tower from the movie Die Hard. Ronald Reagan’s office was in the penthouse. It was quite an experience, I learned a lot, I met both wonderful and totally intense in a not good way people, and even worked in the same office space as the legal team that was handling OJ Simpson’s legal defense.

It was quite a year. But yep, I was right! I did not want to practice law either.

About one week into my “gap year” in law school, I had almost a physical memory come flooding back to my consciousness. I remembered as a child wanting to learn how to throw pots on a wheel. My parents had gotten my first cousin a toy pottery wheel as a gift and I remembered feeling very strongly that I desperately wished they had gotten me one.

So I was living in Los Angeles at the time, with an solid 9-5 job, and I thought, I wonder if I could find a pottery studio that gives lessons nearby?

It didn’t take me long at all and within another week I was sitting in a pottery studio at The Clayhouse in Santa Monica throwing my first bowl.

It was like a fire was lit inside of me that would rage and burn for the next seven years. I was obsessed with pottery. I spent every spare waking moment that I had learning how to throw pots and turn them into beautiful finished pieces. I devoured everything I could learn about ceramics. I began wondering if this would be my career. Could I make a living doing this? And all of my old fears about financial security were there waiting to tell me that this wasn’t a good idea.

But giving up pottery wasn’t an option either. It was too wonderful. I needed to figure out a way . . .

So I hatched the craziest plan: I would get married.

At this point I was 24 years old, back in law school for my second year, with no other viable ideas about how to make the pottery thing work out. I was young and kinda naive. There were other options, I just didn’t know how to make them work and something about the other options (working a “normal” day job and making pottery as a hobby on the side) did not meet my burning desire to make pottery all day every day.

Maybe I have ADHD or a touch of OCD or something. I don’t know. I just know that when I’m excited by something, I get hyper focused on it. I learn everything I can about the subject of my interest until I feel that I’m ready to move on. Some people might think I’m a bit odd, maybe a little nutty, but now I know, this quality is my super power.

Back to my marriage story . . . my plan actually kinda sorta worked. I met a handsome man who didn’t care if I made any money or not. He supported me both financially and emotionally and said that I could do whatever I wanted to do (I did finish law school out of fear). We got married shortly after I graduated from law school.

I finally felt free. Not only did I want to make pottery at that point, I wanted to explore everything that my inner child had been afraid of exploring. We were still living in Los Angeles at the time, so I was able to take in person classes at local colleges in Design, Hand Lettering, Drawing, Painting, Book Making, and so much more. The only limit I had was hours in the day. It was a magical time for me.

My husband never complained about my daily stops at Utrecht (later acquired by Blick), the art store a very short walk from our apartment. I still have most of those art supplies today! He did however purchase a book titled, “How to Make Money from Your Crafts” which we still joke about today.

To be continued . . .

Leave a comment below and keep reading by clicking the green button right here:

This is kinda just the beginning . . . is my story at all interesting to you? Maybe you see some of yourself in my story? Please share in the comments below!