For our most recent CreativeMornings Hudson Valley gathering, hosted at Headstone Gallery in Kingston, we gathered to explore the theme of Ember with artist, ceramist, and educator Demetria Chappo.







A portal into her process
Because we couldn’t all physically fit inside her studio space, we began the morning by bringing the heart of that sanctuary to the gallery. CreativeMornings Hudson Valley Co-Host Michael O’Neal worked with Demetria to create a film that served as a portal into her world, stepping past the finished ceramics and into the atmosphere where these ideas are born. We saw the well-worn tools, the tactile beauty of raw clay, and the steady rhythm of her hands. It was a chance to witness her "quiet fire" in motion before she took the stage. [Watch the short film.]
“Thank you so much to the CreativeMornings team and Mo for this beautiful film. It was very special to see your artistic voice and see through your lens what I do… The people in our life, those creative relationships and our personal ones are really so often that ember for us. But sometimes it's more than that. And we also don't always have the access to that. So where does it come from? Within.”
Demetria continued by reflecting on another of the many ways this month’s theme connected with her.
“Fire is the necessary element to transform clay into ceramic. It goes through a state change. It crystallizes and hardens and it becomes a new thing."
She walked us through her outdoor smoke-firing process, a method of intentional surrender. By using organic materials like banana peels, seaweed, and seed pods, she creates a "collaboration with the fire."
"There’s a lot of intention built into my process, but it’s also all about that alchemy and the chance of what might happen.”



When it goes quiet
This intentional surrender requires the capacity to hold both the heat of intention and the stillness of the wait. This philosophy is most tested during what Demetria calls "the stickiness": those moments in a firing, and in life, where things go quiet and doubt begins to creep in.
"I always say the same thing... 'It’s too quiet. It’s all too quiet.' And so I’ll throw in more materials... trying to stoke it and make something happen. But sometimes I wait. It’s about acknowledging that when it’s that hot, I can't actually see what's happening. The fire is so hot that I don't know what's being transformed."
She reminded us that the quiet isn't a lack of progress; it is the peak of the transformation.
"It’s in that quiet that things are really stirring and that I don't see them taking place... it is those moments when I start to feel that little bit of doubt creeping in that nothing's happening, and reminding myself that it is okay, it's both. It’s the acknowledgement that it is about sitting in the stickiness, and it is allowing everything to take shape."


Every form informs the next
Beyond her own studio work, Demetria’s practice is deeply rooted in teaching. Her goal is to help others navigate the same "stickiness.” She passes along a philosophy that acts as a steadying hand for anyone stuck in the pressure of a "final" result:
"Every form informs the next, and every firing informs my next.”
Demetria noted that as adults, we often carry the pressure to be "good" that can suffocate a new idea before it has a chance to breathe. For her, teaching is a reciprocal fire; while she guides her students through the fundamental practices, seeing someone else’s spark reignites her own.

Tending your own fire
To move past the "adult brain," Demetria looks toward the most intuitive artists among us: children.
"What I love about teaching kids is they don't hold back. Everything that happens, they meant it, like it was supposed to happen. They take it as the next thing that drives them to a new place. If a piece wasn't supposed to have an arm, suddenly it becomes a whole new thing entirely."
She often hears adults claim, “I’m not creative.” Her response is a foundational pillar of her practice:
"I truly believe we're all creative, but how we apply it may be different. Maybe yours is spreadsheets and numbers... maybe yours is working through science. You’re just not practiced in the creative process of clay."
To bridge this gap, she follows a specific sequence: stirring up creative energy through play, building through fundamental practices, and finally moving into intention.
"Humankind changed when we started working with clay. We intuitively know how to use this material. It’s so interesting when you just give somebody the freedom to play like a child and to just touch it and squeeze it and mold it. We know how to shape it. Our head just gets in the way."


What reignites your spark?
To help find that internal fuel, Demetria invited us to identify our own spark phrases, the mantras we use to reinvigorate ourselves when our internal embers start to dim.
For Demetria, it was "Go outside."
"Go outside means really go outside... go see nature. But it also means go outside of myself... outside of the way I'm thinking, that maybe I've been too monotone in where my thought process has been."
She highlighted a few other "sparks" shared in the room:
Okay: “I love that, because it's so simple and it's so true. Sometimes we just need that moment of, like, it's okay. Okay, I got this. Or okay, I can do it. Or, okay, stop freaking out.”
Breathe: “Somebody else's was 'breathe.' Absolutely. Always. But we forget about it and we hold that breath when we're holding on and trying to think about so much.”
Demetria’s work reminds us that the creative life ebbs and flows in a continuous cycle, honoring both the moments of high combustion and the slow, vital periods of preparation that keep the fire alive:
"I believe we constantly have so many embers within us... We have to remember that they're simmering. They’re just waiting for that right moment to burst into flame."



A collective gift
This morning was made possible by a community of remarkable partners and volunteers:
Headstone Gallery for opening your beautiful space to us.
Bread Alone Bakery for the delicious bagels.
Rana Faure for helping the magic of the morning live on through your photography. [Explore the full photo gallery.]
And to everyone who joined us, thank you for being part of this. We’re so glad you’re here.





Our next get-together is Friday, May 29. Be sure to sign up for our newsletter and follow us on Instagram, so you’ll be the first to know when tickets go live.
We’ll see you next month!

There’s a seat for you
If any of this makes you want to get involved—whether it’s volunteering, sponsoring coffee or breakfast snacks, hosting us in your space, playing music, capturing photos or video—please reach out (hv@creativemornings.com). We’re building this chapter piece by piece, hand in hand, and we’d love for you to join us. There's always more room at the table.














































