Cactus clay planters, a spare room, and buyers who actually read

You do not need every piece you have ever made in the shop on day one. Five or eight cactus clay planters listings that you would hand to someone standing in the studio are plenty. Add the next batch when it is actually finished. An active shop looks like a person working, not a warehouse that never changes.

Pricing still feels personal. Materials are easy to add up. The hours are not, especially the ones that produced something you threw out. A fair price for cactus clay planters covers the failed attempts, the tools that wear out, and the fact that you cannot make forty of them before lunch. If a friend in Berkeley would not believe the number, the listing is probably still too low.

A shop on Doshe does not stock your work or rewrite your descriptions. You photograph in whatever light your Berkeley studio actually has. You ship from the same table you make on. There is no monthly shelf fee. The 5% comes out when an order is finished, not while you are still deciding if you want to sell.

What I would write in the listing

Photos do more work than adjectives. One shot in daylight, one that shows size next to a mug or a hand, one of the back or the underside. Buyers forgive a slightly crooked crop. They do not forgive a listing that hides the scale.

Most people who make cactus clay planters in Berkeley did not start with a business plan. They started because the work kept piling up on the table and someone finally asked if it was for sale. That is a fine origin. The messy part comes later, when the same person has to answer messages, pack boxes, and decide what a piece is worth.

Titles can be plain. "Stoneware mug, 12 oz, matte white" beats a pun that hides what the thing is. People searching from Berkeley, or from three states away, type the object, the material, and the use. Meet them there.