Creative Resilience

Words by Jamie Crocker

Sometimes, making the hardest choice produces the best results.

In the words of Robert Frost, ‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference.’ It’s not easy, in fact, sometimes it’s hard. But the point at which the path divides is one you’ve been heading towards for a long time. And although you may not recognise it at the time, the choice has already been made. You just needed something external to yourself to push you over the threshold. So it was with Jo Downs, both creatively and in terms of where her business was going next. 

Let’s backtrack to a few months ago and several hundred miles away. Retreating to the hills of rural Spain, Jo discovered something she hadn’t experienced for years – uninterrupted creative flow. Away from the pressures of running a thriving glass business, she found herself returning to the raw experimental spirit that first drew her to the medium three decades ago. The pieces that emerged from those weeks of solitude would become some of her most celebrated work yet, some of them selling before they could even be properly photographed.

Jo has spent over 30 years perfecting her craft, developing techniques that blur the boundaries between drawing and glass forming. Her latest Signature Collection represents a leap in complexity, incorporating what she describes as ‘almost like a collage’ of different processes. Using a needle-tipped pen loaded with specially mixed enamels, she draws directly onto glass surfaces, creating lines that blur and bleed during the firing process like watercolours meeting paper. The organic unpredictability of these reactions mirrors the Cornish coastline that has been one of her inspirations from the outset. Juxtaposing solidity with erosion, it took her on a journey back to her creative roots, allowing her to recognise the inspiration behind her work in new ways, even though it was happening thousands of miles away. In some way, this is no surprise. It’s well documented that human creativity thrives in a state of absence, when separation from the thing you love gives you space to see it afresh and appreciate it as you did at the beginning.

The technical mastery required for these pieces demands patience that commercial pressures rarely allow. Lack of time and guilt combine to cull the creative urge. In this case, each work involved multiple processes spread across days, with elements created separately before being assembled into complex, textured compositions. The results are three-dimensional narratives that invite engagement, their surfaces ranging from smooth curves to deliberately sharp edges that have left their maker’s hands permanently scarred. As Jo wryly observes, she could measure her expertise in cuts rather than hours, having long since surpassed the holy grail of the 10,000-hour threshold for mastery.

This commitment to pushing boundaries creatively, miraculously, became a transferable resource. Last year proved to be challenging – the dark clouds of rising overheads were looming over the business she had built from her bedroom decades earlier. Rent increases, soaring energy costs and broader economic pressures created an unbalanced equation that was not sustainable via the existing model. The mathematics pointed to an undeniable choice – expand or contract. 

The decision to open galleries in Truro and Dartmouth represented more than business expansion; it was a survival strategy born of necessity. While advisors counselled caution, Jo recognised that shrinking wasn’t an option. The Truro venture, initially a three-month trial, exceeded all expectations and became permanent. Dartmouth, suggested years earlier by her father, who remembered the town’s appreciation for fine craftsmanship, proved equally successful.

These business challenges pushed Jo to confront fundamental questions about her role within the company. The creative passion that launched her career sometimes clashed with administrative demands, leading to periods of overwhelming pressure. The solution came through recognising that delegation and letting the reins loosen were the answer. This restructuring allowed Jo to spend more time doing what she was good at – creating.

The master classes she runs reflect this philosophy of experimentation over rigid instruction. Drawing from decades of learning through trial and error, she encourages students to embrace uncertainty and discover possibilities through play. Her approach stems from entering the field when glass fusing was far less documented than today, forcing her to develop knowledge through pure experimentation. This methodology, born out of necessity, has become her greatest strength.

The Spanish retreat represented the culmination of this journey back to creative fundamentals. In a small mountain village, working with a modest kiln, Jo rediscovered the joy of following ideas to their natural conclusion without deadline pressure. The resulting pieces, with their complex layering and textured surfaces, represent her sketches translated into three-dimensional form. They disappear from galleries as quickly as they’re created, with buyers vying for pieces they’ve seen in brief television coverage.

Recent appearances on BBC Spotlight, originally covering economic challenges facing creative businesses, inadvertently showcased work that sold within hours of broadcast. In fact, the recently held Royal Cornwall Show drew visitors to her stand, who recognised her from television, demonstrating how craft excellence cuts through media

noise to reach its intended audience.

The expansion beyond Cornwall’s borders reflects broader strategic thinking. While the county provided the foundation for success, growth demanded new audiences. Dartmouth’s artistic community and tourist demographic proved ideal, while Truro’s central location captures year-round footfall from across the region. Each location serves different purposes while maintaining the consistent quality that defines the brand.

This geographic expansion mirrors the evolution in Jo’s artistic practice. The techniques developed in Spanish solitude are now being refined in Cornwall’s more substantial kilns, allowing for larger, more ambitious pieces. The marriage of intimate scale experimentation with production capability represents the maturation of both artist and business owner.

The physical demands of her craft remain unchanged. Glass edges draw blood daily, leaving permanent reminders of creative dedication etched into scarred hands. ‘You can tell a person’s trade via their hands’ holds true. Yet this tactile relationship with material remains central to work that celebrates texture, light and the unpredictable beauty of controlled accidents. Each piece emerges from fire fundamentally transformed, carrying traces of its maker’s touch and the environment that shaped it.

Looking ahead, Jo continues to balance creative exploration with business responsibility. The Spanish retreats will continue, providing essential space for the experimentation that feeds her artistic development. The galleries provide platforms for sharing discoveries, while the master classes ensure knowledge passes to the next generation of glass artists. It’s a model built on sustainable creativity rather than endless expansion.

The story of Jo Downs illustrates how traditional craft can thrive in contemporary markets through authentic innovation. Her success stems not from following trends but from deepening expertise, pushing boundaries whilst maintaining an unwavering commitment to quality. In an era of mass production, handmade objects that carry their maker’s original intent beneath their surface offer something irreplaceable: the human touch that transforms raw material into art.

From bedroom studio to multi-site operation, Jo’s journey proves that creative businesses can weather storms by being bold and not straying from the original reason the journey began. Yes, you adapt along the way, but if you’ve come this far, the bridges behind you are gone. There is no going back. The glass may blur and flow in the kiln’s heat, but the vision behind it stays clear.

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