What the Hands Know.

In Sicilian, L'Arma means "the Soul." The name represents the work I'm doing on myself: finding the soul within, and learning to live from that place.

I spent most of my life living for other people. Not in a generous way - in a lost way. I cared too much about what people expected of me. I made decisions based on what I thought I should do, what would look right, what would make others comfortable. I built a life that wasn't mine.

I've worked with my hands for as long as I can remember; cooking, working on my motorcycle or bike; always doing something. That was always where I felt most like myself. But I listened to the belief that work like that had to stay a hobby, not a career. I followed the path I thought I was supposed to follow.

A friend shared this Joseph Campbell quote with me: "The treasure you seek lies in the cave you fear to enter." In January of 2026, I left my full-time job without a backup plan. I walked into the cave.

I've decided to pursue pottery as a way to finally know myself, my true self, imperfections and all. Whether this practice becomes something or not, the victory is that I moved forward. I chose myself.

My signature - a heart pierced by a dagger - is a traditional tattoo motif. Historically, it represents emotional suffering. To me, it means something different: redemption.

For years, I was trapped in my own head, battling depression and hopelessness. Through meditation and mindfulness, I learned to separate myself from those thoughts. I realized that while I was the source of my own suffering, I also had the power to stop it.

Paraphrasing Carl Jung: "Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate."

That line broke something in me. I wasn't living my life. I was living on autopilot, reacting to expectations I never questioned. The dagger through the heart isn't about pain. It's about the courage to look inward and finally see myself clearly.

I found that clarity through pottery. Pottery demands presence. You cannot throw clay while thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. You must be fully present.

This is why I chose it. Pottery forces me to be present. It mirrors back whatever I bring to it. It teaches me to guide rather than force; To accept what emerges rather than fight it.

When you hold one of my pieces, I hope you slow down, feel the weight, and appreciate the imperfections. Nothing about it is coincidence. Every detail passed through my hands.

I want the object to serve as a reminder that you're not stuck. You can begin again, simply show up and meet what's in front of you with intention.

Thank you for reading.

I love you all. 🖤

— Jake