Arlo Ceramics

Directions Website

Arlo Ceramics ♡ Building something beautiful from heartache. Creating handmade urns that feel like them.

Mr Six Willow is learning how to write.On Monday he wrote a story at school and as he passed it to me he said it’s goin...
17/09/2026

Mr Six Willow is learning how to write.
On Monday he wrote a story at school and as he passed it to me he said it’s going to make you cry. I was expecting it to be how much he loves me 😂

It said Arlo died in my big belly.

Then he wrote Willow’s story, which was about how he hurt his finger 😂

He spelt Arlo “Ulow”.

I just love that he knows Arlo. He knows his name, he knows his story, and he knows he’s part of our family.

He doesn’t make it complicated. Arlo is apart of our family and I’m sad he died but so so happy he is included ✨

16/09/2026

I’ve been thinking about how often I want to skip ahead.

I want to know what the glaze will look like.
I want to know if the idea will work.
I want to know what it will become.

And I think grief can be like that too.

Wanting to get to a place where it feels different.
Wishing the present was something other than what it is.

But there is so much life in the in-between.

The experimenting.
The uncertainty.
The tiny moments you might miss when you’re too busy wanting to know what comes next.

So today, I’m trying to stay here.

To let this moment be enough, without needing to know how it turns out.

I find Arlo in the night sky.Sometimes I look up and feel close to him there.It made me think about all the places we fi...
10/09/2026

I find Arlo in the night sky.

Sometimes I look up and feel close to him there.

It made me think about all the places we find the people we love, in the clouds, the ocean, the wild flowers, the stars, the little things that suddenly stop us in our tracks and make us feel close to them again.

I want to create a collection around those places.

The places we feel them.
The places we keep them close.

Because even though they aren’t here in the way we wish they were, there are still so many ways to feel connected to them. 🤍

05/09/2026

Six years ago, Arlo keepsakes began with a baby. 🤍

I made an urn for my own baby, and that little piece became the beginning of Arlo Keepsakes.

So much has changed since then, including my grief.

This year, Arlo would be seven. And I find myself imagining him not as a baby, but as the little boy he would be.

And I think my work has grown with that.

My heart is no longer pulling me to create only for babies. I feel called to create for everyone we love and remember.

So Arlo Keepsakes is becoming Arlo Ceramics.

Same heart.
New chapter. 🤍

Arlo will always be where this began ✨

I have just a couple of my big memory cases left — the very last ones before I close this chapter for good.I’ve loved th...
03/12/2025

I have just a couple of my big memory cases left — the very last ones before I close this chapter for good.
I’ve loved these cases so much. Mine will always live in my lounge room. They’ve held so many stories, so many tiny treasures, and they were the beginning of everything for Arlo Keepsakes. But as much as I adore them, my heart has been pulled somewhere deeper… into pottery, into creation, into making urns here in Australia that honour our babies in the most tender, beautiful way.
So this is your last chance to bring one of these memory cases home.
I also have a few heavily discounted bags that will come without a name tag. I can’t colour-match the tags anymore, but there are so many beautiful ones on Etsy if you’d like to add your own.
Thank you for loving these early pieces with me.
A new chapter is beginning — one made slowly, gently, with clay and heart.
Check the website if you’d like one of the final pieces.

✨ Perth parents ✨I’m looking to connect with a few families here in Perth who’ve had a recent loss and chosen cremation ...
04/11/2025

✨ Perth parents ✨

I’m looking to connect with a few families here in Perth who’ve had a recent loss and chosen cremation for their baby. 💛

I’m finishing up the next stage of our baby urn range, and I’d love to sit down over coffee in Fremantle (during school hours) and just chat about what feels right… what doesn’t… and what would truly help in those early, tender days.

No pressure. No formality. Just a heart-led conversation — parent to parent.

As a thank you for your time and honesty, I’ll gift you one of our Forever Loved Memory Boxes to keep.

If this feels like something you could do — or if you know someone it might help — please share or send me a DM.

I’ll send through a Calendly link so we can find a time that works.

I’m hoping to chat with around 10 families, and both mum and dad are welcome.
Your voice will help shape something truly meaningful for other families walking this same path. 🌙

Head on outside tonight, it is the Flower Full Moon?It’s one of those nights where the sky just feels... different. Brig...
12/05/2025

Head on outside tonight, it is the Flower Full Moon?

It’s one of those nights where the sky just feels... different. Brighter. Like it’s holding space for all the things we carry.

If you’re up for it, take a moment, and just look up.
There’s something about the moon that feels like a hug — like someone out there knows what’s in your heart.

And if you feel like it, maybe whisper your baby’s name.
Tell them what you wish you could say. Or just sit there and let that light wrap around you.

Because love doesn’t just vanish. It lingers in the moonlight, in the stars, in the quiet moments when the world slows down enough for you to feel them close. 🌙✨

🌕✨
🌙
💛
🤍
💔
🌠
💫
🌟
🕊️
🌜
💞
🌷
💛

Hey Mama, can I tell you something? I remember those nights when it felt like life would never be the same again. Like t...
12/05/2025

Hey Mama, can I tell you something? I remember those nights when it felt like life would never be the same again. Like the world kept moving while my heart was stuck in the moment it all changed.

But then, little things started happening. A feather appeared on my windowsill. A familiar song played on the radio. And I’d feel this warmth in my chest that wasn’t there before. It was like my baby was reaching through the quiet moments, saying, “I’m still here, Mama. You’re not alone.”

I know it’s hard to believe right now, but those signs — those gentle, loving whispers, they’re real. Your baby is still so close, wrapping you in love, holding your hand through this.

And as you keep moving forward, you’ll start to feel it. Bit by bit, that quiet, unwavering bond with your baby. And as joy softly returns, you’ll see they’ve been right there with you, all along. 💛🌿

A dear friend I met through loss invited me for coffee. She had something to share—something too important to text. Befo...
07/03/2025

A dear friend I met through loss invited me for coffee. She had something to share—something too important to text. Before she even spoke, I knew. She was having a baby. She had the most Devine baby bump.

She looked at me gently, choosing her words with care. She even apologised—not for her joy, but for not knowing how to tell me. Six years on since I lost Arlo but only 1 year of knowing me, she still held space for my grief, for the love I carry for Arlo, for the journey that shaped me.

But today, my heart is full. I am overjoyed for her.

We spoke for hours—about her fears, about Arlo, about how I survived pregnancy after loss and how she would too. I shared with her what I once needed to hear: that fear and joy can coexist, that grief and hope can walk hand in hand. That she is not alone.

I share this because there was a time when news like this would have felt bittersweet. A version of me would have been happy for her, but sad for me. But now? Now I am at peace. Growing my family is a chapter that has closed, and I do not wish to reopen it.

Life moves, grief evolves, love remains. And today, I celebrate her. I celebrate the gentle way she carried my heart in her hands as she shared her news. And I celebrate the woman I have become—one who can hold another’s joy without it echoing as loss.

To anyone still navigating these tender spaces, be kind to yourself. There is no wrong way to feel. In time, you will might find peace too.

A dear friend I met through loss invited me for coffee. She had something to share—something too important to text. Befo...
07/03/2025

A dear friend I met through loss invited me for coffee. She had something to share—something too important to text. Before she even spoke, I knew. She was having a baby. She already has the most Devine baby bump.

She looked at me gently, choosing her words with care. She even apologised—not for her joy, but for not knowing how to tell me. Six years on, she still held space for my grief, for the love I carry for Arlo, for the journey that shaped me.

But today, my heart is full. I am overjoyed for her.

We spoke for hours—about her fears, about Arlo, about how I survived pregnancy after loss and how she would too. I shared with her what I once needed to hear: that fear and joy can coexist, that grief and hope can walk hand in hand. That she is not alone.

I share this because there was a time when news like this would have felt bittersweet. A version of me would have been happy for her, but sad for me. But now? Now I am at peace. Growing my family is a chapter that has closed, and I do not wish to reopen it.

Life moves, grief evolves, love remains. And today, I celebrate her. I celebrate the gentle way she carried my heart in her hands as she shared her news. And I celebrate the woman I have become—one who can hold another’s joy without it echoing as loss.

To anyone still navigating these tender spaces, be kind to yourself. There is no wrong way to feel. In time, you will find your peace too.

Address

Perth, WA

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Arlo Ceramics posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share