Finding Our Feet: A Little Kiln’s View

Aug 30

4 min read

Updated: Aug 31

There comes a moment when an idea stops being an idea. I’ve seen it happen. First, it lives quietly in someone’s head.

A little “what if?”

A little dream.

A scribbled note.

A conversation over coffee. And then, before you quite realise it, that little idea starts growing legs. It becomes a name.

A space.

A website.

A collection of beautiful ceramics.

And eventually…It becomes a kiln.

That’s how I came to be here, the heart of Kiln & Kettle. And while I may be the one quietly humming away in the corner, watching the paint dry and turning little creations into treasures, I’ve had a rather wonderful view of how this whole adventure has unfolded.

It all started with Shireen. Her idea, her dream. A beautiful space where people could come together, slow down, get creative and make something with their own hands. Ceramics, colour, paint, coffee, cake, a place to switch off for a few hours and simply enjoy being creative.

It sounds wonderfully simple, doesn't it?

Well…I’ve watched from my little corner, and I can tell you…It isn’t. Because having an idea is the easy part; turning that idea into a real, working business is something else entirely. And doing it in a country that isn’t the one you grew up in? That adds a whole other layer to the story. There have been permits, insurance, regulations, bookkeeping, suppliers, taxes, forms, and then, naturally…more forms. There always seem to be more forms.

There is a way of doing things here in the Netherlands, and Shireen has had to learn it all from scratch. And then there’s the language.

Now, this is where I think the universe got its pairing just right. Because Caren’s Dutch is really good. Shireen’s? Well…She’s still finding her feet. I’ve witnessed those moments. Someone explaining something incredibly important in Dutch. Very quickly, using words that Shireen has never heard before.

Caren is nodding…Shireen is nodding.

Caren actually understands.

Shireen is thinking: Please don’t ask me a question. Please don’t ask me a question.

And then, inevitably: “Dus, wat denk je?”

Luckily, Caren is always there to put all the Dutch puzzle pieces neatly back together. But that’s what makes them such a good pairing. Where one has a strength, the other brings something different. Where one knows the answer, the other asks the question. They balance each other. They encourage each other.

And, most importantly, they keep going.

Because I’ve watched the hard days too. The days when things don’t quite go to plan. The endless list of jobs. The behind-the-scenes work that customers never see.

The cleaning. The organising.The ordering.The emails.The planning.The worrying.The problem-solving.The decisions.

And then, somehow, they open the doors and smile as though everything is absolutely fine. Because that’s the thing about running a little business. People see the pretty part. They see the finished ceramics, the colourful shelves, the coffee, the cakes, the happy customers, the photographs.

What they don’t always see is everything that happens before the doors open. The love.The dedication.The late nights.The early mornings.The moments of doubt. The “how are we going to make this work?”

And then the decision to keep trying anyway.

I’ve watched Shireen and Caren put their hearts into this place.

Every. Single. Day.

And slowly, something rather magical has happened. The space has come alive. The empty tables are no longer empty. They are covered in paint palettes, brushes and half-finished masterpieces.

There are birthday celebrations. Girls’ nights.Team events.Parents and children. Friends catching up. People who arrive not knowing what they’re going to paint and leave carrying something they’ve made themselves. Sometimes people who arrive as strangers leave having made new friends.

And that, I think, is when you realise that Kiln & Kettle has become more than the business Shireen once imagined. It has become a little community. A place where people gather. A place where people create.

A place where people feel welcome. And perhaps that’s one of the most beautiful things about watching an idea come to life. You never quite know what it will become.

Especially when you are building it in a country that isn’t your own.

When you move somewhere new, there is so much to learn. The language. The customs. The rules. The paperwork. The little things that everyone else seems to know instinctively. There are moments when you feel like you’re one step behind. Moments when you wonder if you’ll ever truly find your feet.

But I’ve watched Shireen and Caren do something rather brave. They kept showing up. They asked questions. They learned. They made mistakes. They laughed. They figured things out. And they carried on.

Together.

And perhaps that’s what finding your feet really means. Not suddenly knowing exactly what you’re doing. Not having all the answers. But finding someone to walk beside you while you figure it out. Someone who fills in the gaps. Someone who makes you laugh when things get difficult. Someone who believes in the dream too.

From where I sit, quietly glowing away in my little corner, I think Shireen and Caren make quite the team.

I’ve watched Shireen’s little idea become a real place. I’ve watched Caren become an essential part of making that dream work.

And I’ve watched both of them pour an extraordinary amount of love, energy and dedication into building something of their own here in the Netherlands.

It hasn’t always been easy. It probably never will be. But look around. They did it.

And they’re still doing it. One customer. One painted pot. One cup of coffee. One challenge. One day at a time.

The Netherlands may once have been the place they had moved to. But somewhere along the way, between the Dutch conversations, the paperwork, the paint-covered tables and the laughter echoing around the studio…

It started to feel a little more like home.

And me? Well, I’ll be right here watching it all unfold. Quietly humming.

Turning clay into keepsakes. And occasionally wondering why Shireen is looking at me as though I’m the one who needs to make a decision.

After all…I’m only the kiln.

Until next time,