Virginia McKinney’s clay-and-steel sculptures recall everything from Native American dwellings to Asian passageways. Small notches indicate doors and windows; steel ladders lead to unexplored rooms. “I’m intrigued by the idea of the dwelling, of a sense of place,” she says.

McKinney is a relatively new full-time studio artist. She spent more than 20 years teaching different mediums at various schools, while taking classes to further her skills in metal. She chose to “jump off the cliff,” she says, when she found herself freshly divorced with two children in college: in 2003, McKinney moved to Gatlinburg, Tenn., to become an artist in residence at the Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts. “I quit teaching and said, ‘This is it,’ ” she explains.

But don’t expect her to stay out of school: McKinney is now the campus liaison at Arrowmont, and lives in an apartment on the edge of the school’s grounds. She’s also enrolled at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, Pa., for her master’s in ceramics. “I am a perpetual student,” she says. “Both sides of the desk can be very exciting.”

McKinney describes her work as “a dance between the steel and clay.” She starts a series in her ceramics studio, hand-building red earthenware clay into a dozen forms and bisque firing by the kiln load. Then she moves into her blacksmithing studio and forges steel forms for each piece, hammering and shaping, fitting the bisque pieces into their respective supports.

Then it’s time to return to the clay studio to glaze—not an uncomplicated process. If you look closely, you’ll notice flecks of different colors in any given glaze; that’s because she layers slips, stains and glazes until she achieves depth in the colors. After the final firing, McKinney matches the clay with the steel, which is sanded, primed and painted. “You’d think steel would be heavy, but it lifts up the clay and gives it life,” she explains. “The work has a visceral feel, a strength to it.”

“My work will always be evolving,” McKinney says. Her graduate work is in unglazed porcelain—“I keep thinking about how I could incorporate it.”

“I have made jewelry for as long as I can remember,” says Molly Dingledine. And she’s not kidding. She started threading necklaces as a child, and by high school had a bona fide business, “Molly Made,” replete with custom jewelry boxes and labels.

After her high school graduation in 2000 and a brief foray at a liberal arts college in North Carolina, the Charleston, S.C., native relocated to sunny Savannah, Ga., to attend the Savannah College of Art and Design as a jewelry major. “I couldn’t wait to begin,” she says.

Shortly after graduation, she moved away from family and friends, settling in Asheville, N.C., in 2005 when a business contact connected her with an artist in need of a studio mate. Today she shares quarters downtown with fellow jewelers Joanna Gollberg and Geoffrey D. Giles.

“I’d grown up at the beach,” Dingledine explains. “When I moved to Asheville, the mountains and the change of seasons were really fascinating to me.” And as a self-described outdoors person, it was natural that she took notice. “I really started studying natural forms and how flowers and buds and pods are structured.”

Although Dingledine isn’t aiming for verisimilitude, her shapes are clearly organic. “When I see a flower, pod or bud, I interpret it in my own way,” she says. “I study the form, and translate it into a wearable, movable piece of jewelry.”

Dingledine’s current line evolved from simplified plant forms. Petals evolved into flowers—the “Lotus” and its smaller counterpart, the “Daisy”—which now take center stage in her complete line of sterling silver and pearl necklaces, bracelets, brooches, earrings and rings. “I am constantly discovering new ways to assemble these shapes to create new forms,” she explains. “That is the most enjoyable part for me.”

What’s next? “I want to add more color to my work,” Dingledine says. “In the form of enamel. A flower with three pieces, each a different color … fun!”

“The more I work in glass, the simpler the forms become,” John Geci says. The piece that best defines his current aesthetic is a double-walled “Eclipse” bowl. Practically transparent, it’s defined by smooth contours. “In every piece I create, I try to show how the glass behaves when it’s molten,” Geci explains. “I want every piece to have static mobility.”

Geci has always had an instinct to create beautiful, functional objects. He grew up in rural Connecticut, studying ceramics in high school, but it wasn’t until he got to Hartwick College in Oneonta, N.Y., that he encountered a glass studio.

One class was all it took to convince Geci to switch mediums. “Glass seems to perfectly meld my love of art and creating with sport and physical activity,” he says. After graduating from college in 1994, he took a road trip, ending up at the Penland School of Crafts the following spring. He spent the next five years working at Penland and for dozens of local glass artists, intermittently renting a studio to develop his own work.

From there, Geci landed one of the first artist residencies at the EnergyXchange in Burnsville, N.C., where he perfected his skills and developed a body of work from 2001 to 2004. When the residency ended, he struck out on his own, officially launching J. Geci Glass in May 2005.

Above all, Geci’s work is an ode to molten glass and the skill it takes to ply it. “I don’t have happy accidents,” he says. Instead, he plans colors and patterns carefully. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t open to trying new techniques or forms. “I like to think that my work has a Darwinian evolution to it,” he says. “I try to accentuate the aspects of previous work I feel were successful or interesting.”