Jilly Riley

  • Ceramics
  • Drawing
  • Sculpture
  • Upcycling

I create hand built ceramic animals and creatures inspired by Australian wildlife and a life spent exploring the bush. My work moves between realism and whimsy, using textured clay to bring each piece to life.

Opening Hours

  • Sat 13 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Sun 14 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Mon 15 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Tue 16 SeptClosed
  • Wed 17 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Thu 18 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Fri 19 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Sat 20 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Sun 21 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Mon 22 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Tue 23 SeptClosed
  • Wed 24 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Thu 25 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Fri 26 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Sat 27 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Sun 28 Sept10am - 4pm
  • Parking suitable for cars
  • Family friendly (suitable for children)

I’m a ceramic artist, chronic maker, and professional idea-collector with a brain that rarely switches off.
I hand build ceramic sculptures that are heavily inspired by Australian native animals and birds, alongside a rotating cast of other creatures, functional pieces, and custom pet commissions. Growing up on a farm and later working in outdoor education—spending long stretches in the bush with school groups—has left me with a deep connection to the natural world.
My work is created from one of my past projects; an upcycled caravan studio—previously home to “The Craftanoon Caravan” in Witchcliffe. Originally designed as a space for children’s workshops, it has evolved into my own creative sanctuary. It’s often a little chaotic, usually shared with my two young children, and always full of ideas in progress.
My style doesn’t sit still. Some pieces lean into realism, while others take a sharp turn into the whimsical, slightly wonky, and full of attitude. I’m not interested in perfect—I’m interested in personality. I use textured speckled clay, tinted slips, and sgraffito to carve out details that give each piece its own little spark. If it looks like it might have a story (or a bit quirky), I’m probably on the right track.
Clay is the one place where my brain settles into something that feels like flow. It’s sensory, physical, a little unpredictable, and completely absorbing—from the first lump of clay through to that moment you open the kiln and hope for the best. It’s also how I carve out space for myself within the full, noisy, beautiful chaos of motherhood. Making isn’t just something I do—it’s how I stay grounded, regulated, and connected to myself.
At the end of it all, I want my work to feel alive. I want people to pick up a piece and feel something—recognition, curiosity, a little laugh, maybe even a surprising emotional pull. Whether it’s a native animal, a beloved pet, or something a bit unexpected, each piece carries its own personality… and hopefully finds its way to someone who connects with it.