From Spare Room to Dream Studio: The Garage Transformation I Never Thought I'd Have
If you'd told me a few years ago that I'd be writing this from my very own ceramic studio, I genuinely don't think I would have believed you.
Recently, my partner and I moved into a lovely new home that came with one very exciting feature: a huge double garage. Well... "exciting" might be a generous word for what it looked like when we first got the keys. It definitely needed some love. But beneath the dust, clutter, and endless to-do list, I could see the potential. For the first time ever, I had the opportunity to create a dedicated space just for Hallo Ceramics.
To understand why this feels so significant, we need to rewind a little.
Back in October 2023, I was made redundant from my full-time job. While redundancy wasn't exactly part of my life plan, it became the push I needed to take a leap I'd been quietly dreaming about for years. By that point, Hallo Ceramics had already been established for three years alongside my day job, growing steadily through evenings, weekends, and every spare moment in between.
The entire business operated from a tiny spare room in our house. A room that, in theory, was supposed to be shared. In reality, as Hallo Ceramics grew, the room slowly became less "spare room" and more "pure ceramic chaos hole with unsupervised human access."
Shelves overflowed. Pieces piled up. Clay appeared in places clay had absolutely no business being. Every new idea seemed to require another corner of the room, another shelf, another compromise.
The biggest challenge wasn't even the lack of space.
It was the lack of separation.
When your workspace is inside your home, it's incredibly difficult to switch off. Work was always there, waiting for me. I'd pop in to pack one order and emerge three hours later. I'd tell myself I was just checking on something quickly and suddenly I'd started a whole new batch of work.
For a long time, I tied a lot of my worth as a business owner to how many hours I was working. The longer the hours, the more successful I felt. Looking back, I can see how much of that was driven by anxiety and the pressure I put on myself to constantly be producing, constantly improving, constantly doing more.
The reality was that I wasn't creating a healthy work-life balance at all.
Fast forward to 2026, and things look very different.
After months of planning, renovating, insulating, and probably more trips to the DIY store than either of us would care to count, the garage has been transformed into my dream studio.
And honestly? I still can't quite believe it's mine.
For the first time ever, everything has a home.
I have dedicated stations for making, glazing, packing orders, and preparing for events. It sounds like such a simple thing, but it's completely changed the way I work. Instead of constantly packing everything away to make room for the next task, I can move naturally between different stages of the process. The result is not only a more organised space but a much calmer mind.
Ironically, having more space has actually made me more productive. Not because I'm working longer hours, but because I'm spending less time moving things around and more time doing the work I actually enjoy.
One of my favourite additions has to be the new windows.
Not because they flood the studio with natural light (although that's lovely too), but because I can now spend my working day watching my dogs sprint around the garden, chasing absolutely nothing, barking at invisible threats, and digging impressive craters into what was, very briefly, my beautiful new lawn.
The grass may never recover, but the entertainment value is unmatched.
Practicality-wise, the studio has been a game changer. Loading and unloading the car after markets, workshops, and events used to feel like a full-body workout involving multiple flights of stairs and a lot of questionable balancing acts. Now I can move stock and equipment in and out with ease, which saves so much time and energy.
The studio itself is also filled with pieces from some of my favourite small businesses and artists. Supporting fellow creatives has always been important to me, and being surrounded by their work every day makes the space feel even more inspiring. Everywhere I look there's a reminder of the incredible community that exists within small business ownership.
Perhaps one of the most important improvements is something visitors might not even notice: my kiln now has its own separate room. Not only does this free up valuable studio space, but it also means I can keep myself safely away from the heat and fumes during firings. It's one of those practical upgrades that doesn't sound particularly glamorous but makes a huge difference day to day.
More than anything, this studio represents something much bigger than a renovated garage.
It's a reminder of how far Hallo Ceramics has come.
From a tiny spare room overflowing with clay and half-finished ideas to a dedicated creative space built specifically around the needs of the business. From balancing a side hustle around full-time employment to running the business full-time. From wondering whether taking the leap was the right decision to standing in a studio I once only imagined having.
There are still moments when I walk in, make a cup of tea, look around, and feel completely overwhelmed with gratitude.
Not because the space is perfect. Not because I've "made it." But because this version of my life once felt so far away.
And I can close the door at the end of the day, make my short commute through the garden, past the freshly dug garden craters, back to my home. Work brain = off.
To everyone who has bought a piece, attended a workshop, shared my work, recommended me to a friend, or simply cheered me on from afar—thank you.
This studio exists because of you.
And I cannot wait to see what gets created here next!
The studio photos in this blog post and across my site are taken by the very talented Charlie Valentine. You can check her work out on her instagram @cxvalentine_.
(and no I don't always wear cute dresses in the studio, but the internet doesn't need to see my grotty studio bog clothes!)