For Laura Irmis, stepping away from a long career in art education on New Year’s Day marked the beginning of a deeply personal creative chapter. After years balancing teaching, graphic design, and family life, Irmis chose to pursue ceramics full‑time, using her retirement savings as a safety net and her passion as a guide. Now building visibility through galleries, markets, and social media while drawing inspiration from music, nature, and scientific patterns, she creates pieces that weave together personal history, environmental reflection, and expressive surface design. As her work begins appearing in galleries across Florida, Irmis hopes not only to share her artistic voice but also to spark conversation—celebrating creativity, amplifying women’s perspectives, and encouraging others to pursue lives shaped by purpose and passion.
Laura, you made a bold leap on New Year’s Day by leaving your art teaching career to pursue life as a full-time ceramic artist — what led you to that decision, and how did you know it was the right moment to go all in?
From a young age, I dreamed of dedicating my life to art and becoming a full-time artist. However, alongside that ambition, my husband and I both felt strongly about raising a family together. After the birth of our third son, the reality of providing for our growing family became very clear, and I realized that pursuing financial stability was just as important as following my passion for art. This balance between creativity and responsibility would shape the next chapter of my life.
My teaching career began in local galleries, where I worked with small groups and shared my love of ceramics in a more intimate, community-based setting. In 2016, I took a major step forward by earning my Florida teaching certificate, which allowed me to accept a full-time art position at Boca Ciega High School. This was an exciting and challenging new environment, where I learned how to inspire teenagers and help them develop their artistic voices.
Two years later, an unexpected opportunity arose: my son’s elementary school needed an art teacher. I saw this as a unique chance to become more involved in my children’s day-to-day lives and to build a deeper connection with their school community. Transitioning to elementary education meant adapting my teaching style to reach younger children, sparking their curiosity, and helping them discover the beauty of self-expression through art. During this time, I felt incredibly fortunate to have taught all three of my boys at different points in their elementary journeys, witnessing their growth not just as students but as artists.
After over six years of teaching at the elementary level, I began to crave new challenges and personal growth. I began my path towards a Master’s in Art Education, and when a position teaching 3D art at the high school I once attended opened up, it felt like it was a full-circle moment. I graduated with honors and eagerly accepted the position, full of hope for a fresh start and the chance to reconnect with older students. However, the reality of the role was different from what I had imagined; the demands and pressures of teaching became overwhelming. I realized that, despite my love for education, I was losing the energy and mental space needed to nurture my own creative practice. After many heartfelt discussions with my husband, we agreed that prioritizing my mental health and personal fulfillment was essential. Using my retirement savings as a safety net, I made the difficult but empowering decision to leave my full-time teaching job. On New Year’s Day 2025, I officially stepped into a new chapter, dedicating myself wholeheartedly to my ceramics career. With my boys now older and more independent, I felt it was the perfect moment to show them, by example, how to pursue a joyful, meaningful life built around their true passions.
What has the transition from teaching and graphic design into full-time studio practice been like, both creatively and practically?
Both positions are undeniably creative, yet I found myself constantly serving either clients or students—rarely my own creativity. As a graphic designer, I was initially energized by the challenge of creating logos and branding, thrilled to see my ideas take shape. Yet the reality was a relentless routine: long hours hunched over a computer, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead, and creativity slowly dimming on the screen. There was no sunshine streaming through studio windows, no bursts of laughter or spontaneous joy—just deadlines, revisions, and the pressure to please. When I climbed the ladder to become an art director, the initial sense of accomplishment faded quickly, replaced by meetings, management, and continual stressful deadlines.
Teaching, too, began with exhilaration. I loved connecting with students, watching the spark of discovery ignite in their eyes as they explored new materials and techniques. But over time, the weight of bureaucracy grew heavier: endless paperwork, after-school meetings, and administrative tasks drained the joy from the classroom. There is so much more to teaching than simply conveying a subject—it’s about nurturing curiosity, fostering confidence, and inspiring creativity in a system that often values conformity over imagination.
You’ve been very intentional about building visibility through markets, galleries, and social media like your potterylove TikTok — how have you approached marketing yourself as an artist, and what’s surprised you most along the way?
Creating content is a fun process for me, although sometimes daunting. I’ve had Facebook and Instagram for quite sometime now but during the COVID pandemic, I wandered onto TikTok, drawn in by people’s wit and creativity. I quickly discovered that trends on social media move quickly. I want my corner of the internet to pulse with authenticity, but it’s hard to juggle my desire for honesty with the relentless drumbeat to stay visible and promote myself. As an artist, letting my work live out loud has always felt natural, but turning the camera on myself is a different story. Suddenly, it’s not just my art exposed to the world, but my own face, my own hesitations. Vulnerability tugs at me, but I’m learning to wear it like a badge—one shaky selfie at a time.
Your work is influenced by music, nature, birds, and scientific patterns — how do those elements show up in your ceramics, and how do they shape the pieces you create?
Music has always been woven into the fabric of my creative practice, and my journey as an artist began in early childhood. With a mother who was both an actress and a singer, our home was constantly buzzing with melodies, piano practice, and evening theatre rehearsals. The soundtrack of my childhood was a lively mix of show tunes, jazz standards, and impromptu living room performances. Being adopted and experiencing an early estrangement from my father created a sense of longing and curiosity about my own identity—feelings I often channel into my art. Creating became a refuge, a way to process complex emotions and invent alternate worlds where I could explore who I was and who I wanted to become. I truly believe these formative experiences can leave a lifelong imprint.
As a child, my passion for the outdoors ran wild, fueling my days with endless wonder. From sunrise to sunset, I could be found perched in the highest branches of the old oak tree, watching the birds fly into the distance. I spent hours stalking frogs through the tall grass in the front yard, marveling at their quick movements. Creating mud pies in the backyard became an art form—a messy symphony of earth and water. These hands-on adventures weren’t just childhood games; they were my earliest science experiments and artistic expressions, igniting a lifelong curiosity about the natural world. Even now, echoes of those dirt-filled days shape my fascination with biology, ecology, and the intricate beauty of ornithology.
As your work continues to land in galleries across Florida, what does this new chapter as a full-time artist mean to you, and how are you envisioning the next phase of your creative journey?
Besides selling more of my work, I am passionate about weaving my personal journey and life experiences into each piece I create. Through spontaneous underglaze drips, decals and sprays a delicate dance between chaos and calm is created on the surface. I strive to invite viewers into my world, encouraging them to reflect on the stories and struggles that shape us all. Sadly, women are not represented as much as men in the art world, a reality I hope to address by amplifying women’s voices and perspectives through my art.
I have found that I can’t let go of teaching; the classroom remains a vital part of my life, fueling my creativity and inspiring new ideas. In my work, you may discover surprising statistics or hidden messages about our environment, or a quiet sense of sadness for what is being lost to extinction—threads intended to spark conversation and awareness.
