The Every-Morning Mug
$42Holds 12 oz and its own against the dishwasher.
The Seconds Shelf restocks Saturday, July 4 — wobbly pots, 30–50% off, coffee's on. The ritual, explained
Wimberley, Texas · Wood-fired · Est. 2021
We're June and Tess — two potters, one kiln, and a studio on a bend of Hollow Creek. Every piece is thrown by hand, glazed in colors we found outside, and fired with wood until it earns its speckle.
The glazes
Every glaze is mixed in the studio and named for the thing it was stolen from. Tap a swatch to try it on a mug.
Four core glazes live year-round; the two seasonals come and go with the weather. When a seasonal retires, that's it — we're sentimental, not organized enough to remake them.
The current collection
Holds 12 oz and its own against the dishwasher.
Deep enough for posole, wide enough for pasta.
The one that somehow ends up on the table every night.
Pours without dribbling. We tested. A lot.
Each firing yields sixty-odd pieces and the shelf turns over about once a month — if a glaze you love is out, the Kiln Letter will tell you when it's back.
Our story
June threw her first pot in a community studio in San Marcos; Tess learned on a borrowed wheel in her aunt's barn. In 2021 we pooled our savings, bought four acres on a bend of Hollow Creek outside Wimberley, and spent a summer building Agnes — our wood-fired kiln — brick by brick before the studio had a roof.
The clay is Texas clay, the wood is fallen oak and cedar, and the glazes come from looking out the window. We fire about once a month, all night, in shifts. It's slower and less predictable than a gas kiln, which is exactly the point — the flame decides the last ten percent of every pot.
"We built the kiln before we finished the house. In hindsight: correct."
— June Aldana, co-founder
The making of a pot
Every piece starts as a weighed ball of Texas stoneware, centered and pulled by hand. A good mug takes four minutes; a good pull takes four years.
After a week of slow drying and a first firing, each pot gets dipped in one of the six house glazes and a bare foot-ring wiped clean — that's where you see the raw clay.
Agnes holds about sixty pieces and burns for fourteen hours, stoked in shifts through the night. She has moods. We've learned to respect them.
Good neighbors
2% of every sale — sales, not profits — goes to the Hollow Creek Streamkeepers, our neighbors who watch the water.
$9,412 since 2022, which we're told buys a respectable number of cypress saplings. The creek gave us the name; seems fair to give something back.
Every firing burns fallen oak and cedar cut within twenty miles of the studio.
Mostly from Gil's place next door. Gil takes payment in mugs, which is either a barter economy or a hostage situation — we've stopped asking.
A monthly ritual
Wood firing is a collaboration, and the flame doesn't always sign off on our plans. First Saturday of every month, the shelf by the shop door fills with pots that came out of Agnes with opinions — a kiln kiss here, a glaze run there, a wobble you'll stop noticing by Tuesday.
Everything on the shelf is 30–50% off and fully functional. They hold soup exactly as well as their better-behaved siblings; they just have more personality.
Next restock: Saturday, July 4, 10 a.m. First come, first served — the coffee's on and the good wobbles go early.
Come see the shelfThe Kiln Letter
Firing dates, Seconds Shelf previews, new glaze tests, and a photo of whatever the creek is doing. No spam — we're too busy wedging.
Visit the studio shop
| Thursday | 10am – 5pm |
| Friday | 10am – 5pm |
| Saturday | 10am – 6pm |
| Sunday | 11am – 4pm |
| Mon – Wed | At the wheel |
Hollow Creek Ceramics
1421 Old Kyle Rd
Wimberley, TX 78676
Gravel lot, screen door, and the wheel usually spinning in the next room — come say hi mid-throw. Kids and dogs welcome; the fragile stuff sits up high on purpose. Can't make the drive? Everything on the shelf ships anywhere in the States, packed absurdly well.