Life & Work with Daisy Mendez of Fashion District DTLA

Today we’d like to introduce you to Daisy Mendez.

Hi Daisy, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Hello, I’m an L.A Native, 34, born and raised in Los Angeles and I live and work in Downtown Los Angeles. Art has always been a part of my life, though my story really started with a deep need for stillness, healing, and reconnection—with myself and with something more human, more tactile. I was in a place in life where everything felt fast, and disconnected, and clay offered me the opposite: grounding, slowness, and presence. It became a quiet kind of therapy for me.

I started off as an oil painter, built up a portfolio, unknowingly. I was creating as much as my heart desired with letting go of the fears and what ifs. I luckily got offered a residency at a gallery in DTLA after meeting the owner and her taking a look at my work..I began exploring ceramics on my own, over a decade ago drawn to the way it teaches patience and surrender. At some point, it shifted from being just a personal outlet into something I wanted to offer to others. I didn’t set out to build a business—I set out to create space: space for people to feel, to create, to let go, and to reconnect with their hands and their senses.

I also find great value in all of us learning how to work with this material as it given freely from Mother Earth.

That’s how the workshops started. Slowly, organically. First in small groups, then private sessions, and eventually, I began holding space regularly in my loft. People leave softened, a little more open. That’s the part that keeps me going.

Today, I live and work in the same space where I host these workshops. It’s intimate, imperfect, and real. I believe that’s part of what makes it special, it’s not just about learning pottery, it’s about coming into an experience that’s honest and human.

Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Definitely not a smooth road—and I don’t think it was ever meant to be.

There’s a lot of beauty in what I do, but the behind-the-scenes has had its challenges. One of the biggest has been building something out of my living space. My studio is also my home, so there’s a constant dance between privacy and presence. It can be difficult to hold space for others while also making sure I’m holding space for myself.

Another layer to that journey has been motherhood. I had my daughter while I was still shaping this work. I was teaching while pregnant—physically tired, emotionally stretched, but also deeply inspired. There’s something profound about creating life while also creating space for others to express theirs. It made me more tender, more patient, and more trusting of the process, even when I didn’t have all the answers.

I didn’t come from a traditional business background. I wasn’t following a clear roadmap. Everything was built intuitively, piece by piece, and that meant learning through trial and error—especially when it came to boundaries, pricing, or trusting that people would value the experience I was offering.

Financial uncertainty was also very real. In the early stages, I reinvested everything into the space—with my husband help, Mitchell Crockom— sometimes not knowing if it would be sustainable. And as much as I love what I do, holding space for people’s emotions, creativity, and presence can be emotionally labor-intensive.

But every challenge has also sharpened my clarity. Motherhood, especially, grounded me. It gave me a new reason to keep going, and it reminded me of the importance of offering something honest, something slow and meaningful in a fast-paced world. So even when it’s hard, it still feels worth it.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
At the core, my work is about creating space. I host intimate, hands-on pottery workshops where people are invited to slow down, get messy, and reconnect with their senses. It’s not just about making something with clay—it’s about making contact with yourself, with presence, and with the joy of doing something real and imperfect.

I specialize in small group workshops and private sessions that are rooted in experience, not just technique. While I teach foundational hand-building and silver clay jewelry making, I’m also known for hosting Kintsugi workshops—the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics with gold. It’s a deeply symbolic process that reminds people that broken things can be made even more beautiful. That workshop in particular tends to be really meaningful for people, and it’s one I’m proud to offer regularly.

What sets the studio apart is how personal it is. It’s not a storefront or commercial setting—it’s a lived-in, soulful space. I live where I teach, and that creates a kind of warmth and intimacy that people feel the moment they walk in. The music, the lighting, the details—everything is curated to offer a moment of stillness, beauty, and real connection.

Outside of the workshops, I also create my own sculptural ceramic work. I currently have a residency where I’m developing and displaying my sculpture, and it feels meaningful to carve out space for both teaching and personal exploration. That balance keeps my creative practice alive and evolving.

What I’m most proud of is the way people open up here. I’ve had guests tell me it felt like therapy or that they didn’t realize how much they needed to feel grounded again. I’m also proud that I’ve built all of this while becoming a mother—offering softness to others while going through such a transformative season of my own.

At the end of the day, I think people are craving something real, something unpolished and human. That’s what I hope to offer—a creative, grounding experience that stays with you long after the clay has dried.

What do you like best about our city? What do you like least?
What I love most about Los Angeles is its texture. It’s layered, complex, and full of contrast—which, to me, mirrors the creative process. There’s this beautiful mix of cultures, expressions, and hidden corners. You can be walking down a gritty street and stumble into the most soulful little gallery or community space. That kind of discovery is what I live for—and it’s something I try to echo in the energy of my studio.

What I like least? I’d say the pace and pressure. There’s a lot of noise—expectations around visibility, perfection, hustle. It’s easy to feel like you have to constantly produce or prove your worth. That’s part of why I do what I do—because I think we all need more softness, more slowness, more room to breathe and be human in the midst of it all.

Pricing:

• $40-50 Handbuilding Pottery Sessions
• $75 Kintsugi Workshop
• $90-120 Silver Ring Workshop

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.thepotterybarceramics.com
• Instagram: Thepottersbarceramics