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I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, surrounded by a rich culture of witchish women, farmers markets, handmade goods, and people who still knew how to make things with their hands. I lived and worked on a farm, spent summers climbing the cliffs along the Oregon coast, and winters playing in the snow in the mountains. Nature wasn't somewhere we went to visit. It was simply part of home.

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When I was eighteen, I moved to Austria on my own, and in the years that followed I traveled through the mountains of Germany, tucked-away villages in Sardinia, and quiet little towns in Italy most people have never heard of. And everywhere I went, I brought something home.

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But strangely, the things I kept were rarely the typical souvenirs.

They were handmade things.

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A little ceramic jar. A wooden box. A candlestick. A piece of pottery I absolutely did not need but somehow couldn't leave behind. Years later, I can still remember where I found many of them—and sometimes even the face of the person who made them.

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Those objects have followed me from home to home while so many other things haven't. Furniture has changed. Trends have come and gone. Countless things bought from big-box stores have eventually been donated or discarded when I grew tired of them. But the handmade pieces stayed.

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There is something different about living with an object made by another person. The slight variation in its shape, the marks left by their hands, the knowledge that somewhere, someone sat down and actually made this thing. It connects you to a person and a place in a way something made by a machine never quite can.

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I think that is ultimately where Witchish came from.

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Witchish has evolved quite a bit over the years, as I've tried to figure out what I wanted to make and, maybe more importantly, what felt authentically like me. It took some experimenting, some changing directions, and more than a few iterations to realize that the answer had been around me all along: the natural world I grew up in, the handmade objects I've collected throughout my life, the quiet influence of witchish women and old traditions, and my love of a home that feels gathered rather than decorated.

If you've been a Witchish customer for a while, thank you for staying with me through all of those changes. It truly means the world to me. In many ways, you've watched Witchish grow up alongside me as an artist.

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Today, I make the kinds of pieces I want in my own home—pottery and candles that feel warm, useful, a little unusual, and quietly connected to the natural world. Things that don't make a room feel decorated so much as collected. Pieces that can sit comfortably beside something inherited, something found at an antique shop, or a little treasure carried home from somewhere far away.

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Witchish isn't about filling a home with more things.

It's about making a few things worth keeping.

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My hope is that something I make finds its way into your home and becomes part of the way you live. Maybe years from now you'll pick it up and remember where you found it—or perhaps even remember a little bit about the person who made it—just as I do with the handmade things I've carried with me all these years.

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Because I don't want to make things that are simply consumed.

I want to make the things you keep.

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Thank you again for being here!

Much love, 

Nicole