When life gets chaotic, creativity is often the first thing to slip through the cracks. But for me, clay became an anchor, the thing that reminds me I’m still me, even when everything else feels like too much.
When I first started working with polymer clay, I was just experimenting. Everything was new! Cutters, molds, shapes, all of the little tools. I was absolutely fascinated by what other people were creating and spent hours learning, testing, and failing until something finally clicked. Back then, it really was all about discovery. I was making cute little flowers, using bright colors, anything that caught my eye. It was joyful and playful, but I really didn’t know what Ilia Creations would become.
And then I found opal clay. That was my turning point, the moment everything changed.
I remember realizing how tricky it was for people to work with because of those thick glitter flakes that stick out after baking. I’d hear most artists avoided it, but for some reason, it just came naturally to me. I loved the process, the shimmer, the way light seemed to live inside it. It was whimsical and magical, exactly what I wanted my art to feel like!
Over time, I stopped chasing every new idea that popped into my head. I used to do two drops a month, rushing to release new styles, constantly trying to outdo myself. But it’s so easy to burn out when you’re creating from pressure instead of passion. I’ve learned that slowing down doesn’t mean falling behind, it means letting your creativity breathe. These days, I try to focus on quality and intention. I take pride in the tiny details, the sanding, the high quality hardware. I want each piece to feel timeless, like something someone could treasure for years.
When people tell me they see my earrings as heirlooms, it genuinely means everything. That’s what I want: not just jewelry, but little pieces of magic that outlast trends.
Of course, finding time to create isn’t easy. I have ADHD, which means my focus can swing from full-blown hyper-fixation to total distraction in the same day. There’s no perfect balance… Some days I’m working until 3AM, other days I can barely bring myself to start. But I’ve learned to give myself grace. I don’t force creativity anymore. I walk away when I need to. I remind myself that rest is part of the process.
One thing that’s helped me most is letting go of perfection in how I show up. When I started, I thought being a “real artist” meant always producing something new, constant drops, endless content, always moving. But I’ve realized that art grows quietly too. Sometimes it’s sketching out a new idea, rearranging my workspace, or just daydreaming about colors and textures. That’s all part of creating, even if it doesn’t look like “work.”
If you’re someone who’s trying to find inspiration again, start by playing! Don’t think about what will sell or what others are doing. Just sit down and make something, even if it’s small. That’s how I found my voice, by experimenting with no plan at all. Eventually, the things that feel most you will rise to the surface.
And if life feels too busy to create, I try to remember that creativity doesn’t have to be perfect, just small, intentional moments.
These days, I’m focusing on honoring what I’ve built so far. The designs, the collections, the community — while slowly letting new ideas bloom in the background. My future looks less like hustle and more like balance (hopefully). I also want to explore new mediums, maybe silver clay someday, and continue refining my craft in a way that feels genuine to me.
The pace of life changes, a lot, but clay always reminds me why I started in the first place, to create something beautiful, even in the middle of the mess.
