On candles, borrowed rituals, and why an Italian maker in Brooklyn ended up with a jar that looks French.

On discovering Daniel Buren, and what his 8.7 cm rule revealed about my own stripes.

A color found in the kiln, traced back to a cardinal from Abruzzo.

How a summer idea turned into Argilla Gift Boxes, ready to be given or kept close.

My favorite cupcakes in the city (and how to serve them).

A quiet obsession with stripes—on vessels, match strikers, and cupcake stands—leads to a reflection on rhythm, rebellion, and the satisfying moment when a painted line emerges from a spinning wheel.

On missing Italy, and the colors at Bitossi Museum in Tuscany.

Porcelain rings inspired by Mediterranean coral formations

Brooklyn weekends, ceramic conversations, and pieces that found their way home

A ceramics‑centered home décor shop and café where clay, coffee, and community converge

Why I reach for a clay that’s hard to find—and harder to part with

On form, function, and the honor of being included

Speckled surfaces, Italian sweets, and a glaze that brings pieces to life

It started with a single cupcake and a candle.

The name Argilla means clay in Italian, but for me it means more than that. I’ve shared the story behind it here.