The Story of Hidden Hearth

Alistair Appleton at the Jackson Tile Museum in Shropshire. Escape to the Country Season 15 episode 22.

I’ve never had any interest in ceramics. There, I said it.

I’m a painter, illustrator, and designer who loves to experiment with different mediums and techniques, but I’ve never really felt the call to go three-dimensional. Clay belonged to another breed of artists I hadn’t mingled with. Not intentionally — it just never spoke to me. Squishing and prodding mud into shapes and cooking it didn’t hold much appeal.

Also, potters are weird.

Then, about ten years ago, a British TV show called Escape to the Country landed on Netflix. The premise is simple: city dwellers in the UK abandon their bustling lives in search of a rural idyll — ideally with a garden and a “character property” (translation: something old with beams). Crucially, there must still be a pub within walking distance, because they’re not savages.

Along with touring houses, the hosts often highlight something distinctive about the region: a place of natural beauty, a local industry, or a small business doing something special. On a few episodes, tile makers — both historic and contemporary — were featured, sharing their process.

I was intrigued.

There was something compelling about the idea of making small art canvases out of clay — illustrated surfaces meant to last. I remember thinking, I could do that.

At the time, though, I had plenty of other projects underway. Then COVID happened. Everything stalled. My daughter came home for two years, and we navigated online schooling together. Then I moved studios.

And then… one day, a friend and I were brainstorming business ideas, and out of my mouth popped: “tile-making business.”

I hadn’t realized that idea was still rattling around in there. But once it was out in the open, I started taking it seriously. I’d been in a creative slump since COVID — my painting series had stalled, and I was craving something new.

The space I was working in at the time was more office than studio — definitely not kiln-friendly — which set off yet another move. This time, home. We spent a year fixing up our garage into a workable studio space. During that stretch, I researched techniques, tested ideas, and slowly shaped what would become my first tile collection.

I decided to start with what I love most: the Pacific Northwest. I began illustrating animals and plants local to my region, drawing inspiration from Dutch Delft blue and white tile traditions. I found a modern transfer process that allows my original illustrations to be applied to multiple tiles and fired for permanence in a small “baby” kiln I invested in. I also partnered with a local tile company that produces sustainable tile blanks, so I could focus on the illustration and storytelling side of this first line.

And here we are.

A new chapter of work — still rooted in illustration, just translated into clay. What I love most is that the inspiration has returned. I’m full of ideas for future tile collections (I may be slightly obsessed now), and I’m starting to imagine how these designs could live on dishware, jewelry, and other objects.

And even though I never thought I was a clay person, I’ve since taken a few ceramics classes — enough to make me curious about creating my own handmade forms someday. That part is still unfolding, so consider this a watch this space moment.

How fun. I love a new art adventure.
I hope you enjoy these creations as much as I’ve enjoyed making them.

xo
K