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.
Studio Details
383 Warner Glen Rd
FOREST GROVE
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.