From the managing editor, October 2016

For the past several months, my household’s morning routine has been playing on repeat. I feed my baby. My husband brews a pot of coffee. I’ve even taken to drinking out of the same mug, day in and out. It’s a simple ceramic mug by East Fork Pottery, wood-fired in a kiln on a former tobacco farm in Madison County. Run by Alex Matisse—the great-grandson of French painter Henri Matisse—East Fork has top pedigree and fine technique yet an ethos that values functionality. 

It is the perfect mug for this season of my life: beautiful and assured in its simplicity, reliable and free of fuss. Knowing it was made by a local artisan helps me feel connected to the wider community on days when my world feels confined to the walls of my house, or even the inside of my baby’s nursery.

Recently my family added a set of ceramic cups to our East Fork collection, picked up during a sale out at their homestead. We paid just a few dollars for each piece, but already my routine feels uplifted. Now, as I sip water from one of the speckled tumblers, I think of my son kicking his bare, chubby legs on the grass as we reclined in the shade of the pottery shed after picking out our bounty; of him staring in wonder at the outdoor kiln; the way his eyes lit up as he ran his fingers over the glazed textures. By exposing him to craftsmanship from the start—and by incorporating it into our daily life—I hope to instill in him an inherent desire for art and quality.

My own appreciation of handmade goods came the hard way, by learning that a love of something and talent for it are not the same thing. I’ll never forget the feeling many years ago when, as a college student in the midst of final exams before holiday break, I balanced my checkbook and discovered I had exactly 50 cents to my name. Giving Christmas gifts that year was an exercise in creativity. Fresh from a course load of art classes, I pulled out my leftover supplies and got to work. The finished paintings and drawings were unique, personal, and made with love—but not, in all honesty, particularly good.

Fortunately, I’ve never again been quite so strapped for cash come Christmastime.  When I can, though, I still rely on handmade gifts; a good made by two hands always feels more special than its mass-produced counterpart. These days I just make sure those hands are significantly more skilled than mine.

Luckily, talent surrounds us here in Southern Appalachia, where craft heritage runs deep. Our second annual spotlight on mountain craftsmanship, “Made in the Smokies,” features an array of artists dedicated to carrying on tradition. Whether you’re in the market for an heirloom or a little something to brighten your day, the artisans in these pages won’t disappoint.

— Katie Knorovsky, managing editor