The whole studio, in a book you can keep

Read it like a book. Front to back, it follows a pot from wet clay to a kitchen, with detours for the people and the fun stuff.

Use it like a toolbox. Every page has a short version for clay-covered hands, and the index finds anything fast.

The square codes. Every page carries one or two. Pointing a phone camera at one opens the whole story online, with the current prices, times and dates. Those change too often to print.

Mud. Mud is the studio dog. Clean hands first, then he would very much like to be told he is a good boy. Belly rubs are endless. If he has taken himself off to a quiet spot, he is off the clock.

Clothes and shoes. Wear things you do not mind soiling, and closed-toe shoes with some grip. Rings off before you start, long hair tied back, sleeves that stay out of the way.

Nails. Not a rule. But short nails make the wheel dramatically easier, because long ones carve grooves into spinning clay. We sell clippers at the studio in case the wheel wins someone over mid-class.

What to bring. An apron and a towel if you like them. Neither is included at any level, and an apron lives folded on your shelf between visits. A water bottle with a lid. Drinks at the studio run on trust: grab one, then pay on the website from your phone.

Green Level Members bring tools. A few sponges, a needle tool, a rib or two and a potter’s knife, plus brushes for glazing. Forgotten them? We sell tool kits at the studio for exactly that.

Bags and coats. Free lockers and cubbies during class. First come, first served, and they do not lock.

Pick your vibe. Some classes are calm and quiet. Others are livelier, with snacks, the occasional drink and language that is not especially filtered. Ask an instructor which ones fit, and take a breather whenever. Nobody minds.

Want a nudge? Tell any instructor you would like to meet people. We are good at starting conversations.

The icebreaker is already on the table. Every station has a name stand, so nobody has to ask twice. Ask someone how they got that rim, that texture, that handle. Potters will talk about a handle for ten minutes. Just never touch their pottery without a yes: unfired work is shockingly fragile.

Frequency beats personality. Come the same night each week and you will usually see the same faces. Then one night somebody says, “Hey, where were you last week?” That sentence is the whole thing.

No set color. The owner, general manager, studio manager and creative team. The studio manager keeps the building running and does not take member questions, on purpose.

Something sensitive. A problem, a dispute, or anything too big for a text goes to the general manager or the owner, one on one.

Before a first open studio. New to pottery? Two instructed classes first, or one for anyone who already knew their way around clay when they joined. A very first visit is always an instructed class, no matter how experienced.

A naming quirk. You will sometimes hear an instructed class called an “open studio class,” because there is no set lesson. Open studio time is the one with no instructors. Confusing, and technically it is all open studio format.

Arriving. Doors open shortly before class or open studio starts, and not a minute earlier. Nobody has to arrive at the start or stay until the end, with two exceptions: a first night, and a first wheel lesson, which only happens for people who arrive on time.

Leaving. Plan to be cleaned up and out the door when class ends. Not starting cleanup then. The cleanup bell is a 30-minute warning.

Closures. We close for a short list of holidays each year. Closures are not refunded, and nothing is lost either: the class you would have used just waits with the rest. Weather closures come by email.

The fun stuff. Karaoke and trivia nights, parties, free weeks and workshops all land on the studio calendar. Workshops are separate from membership and booked on their own.

Keep the momentum. Pick the next visit before leaving this one. Momentum is half the hobby.

Not getting them? Check the spam folder and the promotions tab. Still nothing? Text the studio and a real person will sort it out.

You never touch a kiln. Staff load, fire and unload every one. Once a piece is on a table, the job is done until it comes back.

Allow weeks, not days. A first piece usually takes a month or two from wet clay to a kitchen. Do not promise anyone a birthday mug for next Friday.

The first few bags. 52 Buff, or B-Mix with Grog. Leave porcelain and the smooth clays until centering feels dependable. Grog forgives you. Porcelain does not.

Keep it happy. Close the bag the second you are done, push the air out, and keep it out of the sun and away from heat. A stiff bag usually is not dry, just tight; slam it on the table a few times to wake it up.

Glaze or underglaze? Underglaze is color that stays exactly where you put it, made for painting and drawing. Glaze melts and moves. On anything that will hold food or drink, underglaze needs clear glaze over it.

Get certified first. Before a first glaze, do the online glaze and underglaze certification: a video, the rules, a quick check and an agreement. Save the card and show an instructor.

The jar rules. Spoon what you need into the smallest cup that works; a brush never goes into a jar. Stir, never shake, with Stroke & Coat bottles the one exception. Never add water. If a glaze looks thick, grab an instructor. Lid on while you work, threads wiped before it closes, jar back in its own spot.

How to brush. Flash-rinse the bisque first, a quick rinse and not a soak. Then three coats: horizontal, vertical, diagonal. Wipe the bottom completely bare.

Your colors. Jars wear level stickers like everything else. Gold means raku and low-fire, which never go in a regular firing. Green Level brings its own brushes.

Its own certification. Separate from brush-on, and required at every level before a first dip. The password is in the video.

Who dips. Included at Purple Level, all but Dan’s Secret Sauce, and at Black Level. Green Level and Yellow Level can dip too, paying per piece.

The routine. Wax the bottom, and wax for dipping is included for everyone, then let it dry completely. Rinse and rub the piece with cold water. Blow the dust off the closed lid. Use only the whisk assigned to that bucket, and mix for at least two minutes. Dip for the time written on the lid. Let it drain completely. One piece, one dipping glaze. Touch up only once it is dry. Lid all the way back on.

What ruins a bucket. Wet wax, unfired underglaze, brushed-on glaze, dirty tools, dust, floor gunk and mixing glazes. A ruined bucket is expensive, and whoever ruins it replaces it. There are no strikes on these rules.

What a page shows. The fired tile, the brand and family, which level can use it, flags like “good on texture” and “studio favorite,” what it does over another glaze, which clays suit it, and what went wrong if yours came out different.

Test before you commit. The same glaze looks different on different clays. Use the Bible as a starting point, then try anything you love on a small piece first.

Three ways to read it. Search it online, download the free PDF, or pick up the big printed copy, custom printed and bound, pickup only. It makes excellent bedtime reading.

Keep notes. Write down the clay, the glazes and how many coats. A beautiful result is twice as useful when it can be made again.

Put it back right. Wipe the threads, close the lid and return the jar to its exact spot, so the Finder stays right for the next person.

Every glaze has a rating. The Glaze Bible gives each one of four: rated for functional ware; cleared but not rated; outside of the pot only; or not dinnerware safe, which means never for food, at any thickness, on any pot.

Three things cancel a good rating. Crazing, which is a fine web of cracks where bacteria can live. Underfiring. And a coat that is too thin or has crawled. A rating says the recipe is sound. It does not certify your pot.

Liners are your friend. A liner is a glaze with one job: a dependable inside. It does not do anything interesting, and that is the point. Brush it on, because pouring glaze is forbidden here, take it just over the rim, then go wild on the outside.

Separate claims. Food safe, dishwasher safe and microwave safe are three different claims, and one never proves another. Layered glazes count as unproven even when each one is rated. Raku is never food safe.

Order matters. The same two glazes reversed can look completely different. The glaze that is built to move goes on top.

A starting recipe. Two coats underneath, three over. Wait until each layer has gone chalky and lost its shine before adding the next.

Mind the foot. Layers run. Keep at least a quarter inch of bare clay above the foot, always.

Test first. Try a new pairing on something you will not mourn, and treat layered combinations as unproven for food.

Two firings, two jobs. The bisque firing is demolition: it burns everything out and leaves the clay hard and porous. The glaze firing is construction: much hotter, it melts glaze into glass and fuses the clay into stoneware.

Heat is measured in cones. A cone measures heat and time together. A roast at 350 degrees for twenty minutes and one for two hours are not the same dinner. Our bisque goes to cone 05, and the zero is not a typo, and our glaze firing to what we call cone 5½.

Staff only. We load, program and unload every one of our 4 kilns. Kilns run when there is enough work to fill one, so a spot on the table is not a finish date. And we will not open a warm kiln early.

How a glaze firing is priced. Measure length, width and height at the widest points, count the cookie in the height, and round down to the nearest quarter inch. A piece 4 inches wide in one place and 8 in another is an 8-inch piece. The firing calculator does the math.

Then, finished-piece pickup. When the kiln is unloaded, a card with the deadline goes in or on the piece. Collect it during a class or open studio time within two weeks. After that it is tossed. Not stored, not sold. Tossed.

The risk. A crack or a blowup in the kiln is the risk of firing, and it belongs to the maker. If our loader causes it, you get an extra studio day to remake the piece.

Two depths. Comprehensive, for the whole story, which is excellent bed reading. Or Nutshell, for the one thing you need at your table right now.

How it is organized. The departments run in the order a pot does, from preparing clay to firing it, plus safety, studio life, Dan’s letters and a Take a Break department, exactly as silly as it sounds. Or just search your question.

Heads up. Many of the lessons cover things we do not do here, like slip casting.

Ask for a lesson. Stuck on something nothing covers? Request it. The best lessons came from members getting stuck.

How it works here. Raku is a separate paid workshop, not part of membership, for current and past members. Spots are limited, and the dates and details live on the workshop page.

Come prepared. Pots arrive already bisqued and glazed with raku glazes; there is no time or place to do either at the workshop. The clay has to survive a brutal temperature shock, and B-Mix with Grog is our go-to. Raku glazes wear gold stickers and never go in a regular firing.

On the day. A fresh raku waiver, every time. An in-person safety meeting opens every workshop, and attendance for all of it is required: show up late and you do not fire. Closed-toe shoes, long pants, natural fibers, hair tied back. We supply the goggles, welding apron and gloves.

Before you go. The online raku training is comprehensive, and worth the fifteen minutes.

Who can come. Eighteen and up, or fourteen to seventeen with a parent or guardian taking part the whole time.

How it started. As a kid, nobody signed Dan’s backpack or his yearbook, so he forged the signatures himself. As an adult he started collecting real ones: notebooks, laptops, clothes, then a chair. They are running out of chair.

The rule. In his first little garage studio, he built a tile wall behind the kiln with one rule. You did not get to sign it because you stopped in, or because you asked nicely. You signed it because you made art together.

The big wall. When the first Clay Hole opened, Dan signed its big wall first: one name on a great big blank wall. Now there are hundreds.

Forever. No signature ever comes down. Not one.

How show & tell works. When a piece comes out of the kiln looking beautiful or exceptional, it gets an “Incredible!” card. That card is an invitation to get a picture taken with it.

You are in the picture. You hold your piece, and you are in the photo too. No hiding behind the pot. It is optional, so skip it if you would rather.

Ask the maker. See a glaze or a handle you love in the photos? Ask the maker how they did it. They have been hoping someone would.

Rather not be online? Text the studio with the photo’s file name and we will take it down.

Free week rules. Brand-new people only, one free visit per person. Guests must be 18. No RSVP and no limit to how many you bring. Their waiver is done before they arrive. The night uses one of your classes, your tools become their tools, and clay is the one thing they buy, or you share yours. Nobody can bring anyone to their own first class.

You are the teacher. It will go sideways. That is the fun part. And if they do not join, their pot becomes yours to finish, glaze, fire and hand over.

Any other week. The Bring a Friend pass. Buy it online after at least one class on your own. Up to two guests at a time, one pass per guest ever, used in the month you buy it. Guests are 18 and up, or 14 to 17 with their own parent or guardian as the member bringing them. Workshops, parties and events are generally for members only. If a guest joins the same day, the pass fee comes back.

The suggestion box. It goes straight to the owner: suggestions, complaints, compliments and ideas, with a name on it or completely anonymous. It all gets read. Membership changes have their own pages, questions go to the FAQs or a text, and emergencies go to 911 first.

Something sensitive? A problem or a dispute is best handled one on one, with the general manager or the owner.

Teach here. Pink shirts are our paid main instructors. Purple shirts come through the trade program: one shift a week, at the wheels or the tables, in exchange for a Purple Level membership. No teaching background needed, but real dedication to clay is. It is the door most of our instructors came through.

The trick to getting hired. We keep standing lists, so apply before there is an opening. That is the whole trick.