Hey! I'm Jasmine …and it's so nice to meet you!

I’m an entrepreneur, designer, photographer, and potter—a curly, quirky, neurospicy artist that insists every dog I meet is the cutest ever (and I’m never lying). My rescue dogs' names are Doug and Gertie they're arguably the cutest. My spouse’s name is Scott, and he’s not half-bad himself. We live in a cute little desert-inspired 1939 home in the charming neighborhood of Normal Heights in San Diego. I tend to my plants with undeserved confidence and reckless abandon. While I'm only minutes from the magic of the ocean, it's actually the desert that truly has my heart.

SOME STUFF I LOVE

French fries

Empathy

The Scottish Highlands

Chai lattes

Building community

Road trips

Connecting one-on-one

The desert

SOME STUFF I DON'T LOVE

Facism and hate

Dirty dishwater

Mushrooms (texture)

A dishwasher loaded willy-nilly

Flaky people

Chaos

Phone calls

Whistling

I hail from Montréal, QC, Canada, which means I’m excellent at swearing in French (or you, know, having a normal conversation), and I love poutine. And GOOD bagels. I studied fine arts in Montreal, and got a degree in design & branding in Toronto. I’m a whole-hearted believer in the authenticity, curiosity, growth, and art of making things with one’s hands. Aside from pottery, I use mine occasionally to paint, write, strum on my guitar (poorly), garden (even more poorly), and to tell stories in images about the intangible wonder between people.

Years as a brand strategist and designer in my first career helped me to fall in love with storytelling and out of love with schmoozy corporate bureaucracy. Now I’ve spent over a decade as a photographer and entrepreneur, authentically reflecting real shared human experiences, inspiration, and creativity.

How I found my way to pottery

I was first exposed to making pottery in 2019 while attending a photography conference. An attendee had brought mini-wheels just for shits-and-giggles between seminars. I was hooked from the minute my hands touched the clay and kept coming back between lectures. I immediately signed up for beginners’ lessons when I got back home (I did terribly, by the way), bought a wheel when the world fell apart during the pandemic a year later, and finally built my home studio out more fully in 2023. My Skutt kiln arrived in summer 2024, and her name is Dottie [the Hottie].

The physicality of clay is essential to me. The awkward truth is I don’t actually like being dirty. Having my hands covered in muck all the time was an uncomfortable adjustment, but, a necessary one. Being too messy to pick up your phone is a gift. The zen and flow of pottery, losing yourself in the amorphous magic of choreographing clay—that, for me, is deeply healing. Especially after burnout. Playing with clay has allowed me to reconnect to a grounded, earthy part of myself, hidden behind screens and fancy gear and masking for too long.