A few winters ago, Kingston-based ceramic artist found herself sidelined after breaking her ankle while skating on Lake Ontario. Unable to reach her studio to craft the beautiful bowls and vases she’s known for, McDiarmid decided to take her partner’s advice.
“She told me, ‘Why don’t you learn something that you’ve always wanted to do but didn’t have time for?’”
For McDiarmid, that something was digital drawing. Stuck in bed, she pulled out her iPad and began teaching herself. But when it came time to create something meaningful, she found inspiration from the day’s headlines.
It was 2022, and several U.S. states, including Florida, were pushing forward controversial “Don’t say gay” laws that sought to restrict discussions of LGBTQ+ topics in classrooms. In response, a grassroots movement erupted with a defiant and hopeful chant: “We say gay.”
Moved by the moment, McDiarmid designed a striking “We Say Gay” T-shirt and poster. She offered the poster as a for anyone to display. On her website, she wrote: “Growing up I never thought I’d be able to get married, that we would see positive trans characters on mainstream TV, that my queer partner could be listed on our child’s birth certificate as the other parent. Now I’m watching in horror as society careens backwards, undoing the positive changes that so many of us have fought for.”
Today, as political efforts to roll back LGBTQ+ rights continue in the U.S. and beyond, McDiarmid says celebrating Pride Month in 2025 is “more important than it’s ever been.”
A calling in clay 
Though she didn’t consider herself an artist growing up, McDiarmid always gravitated toward it. Her father’s military career meant frequent moves – 14 homes from Ottawa to Norway and Germany before she turned 20 – and she never felt particularly singled out for her creative abilities. “No one was highlighting my artistic talent,” she says with a laugh.
That changed at 18 when she took a ceramics class in Toronto. “I was terrible at first,” she admits but slowly discovered her talent. “You could take a lump of clay, and it could become anything you wanted. It was kind of magical.”
She studied history at Queen’s, earning both undergraduate and master’s degrees. Her dissertation focused on the LGBTQ+ community in Kingston from the Second World War to 1980. She conducted dozens of interviews and combed through archives, uncovering how, in smaller cities like Kingston, gay and lesbian communities often worked more collaboratively than in larger centres. One notable example: the founding of the Queen’s Homophile Association in 1973 was a joint effort. Some of her research can be found at the Kingston website .
Initially, McDiarmid thought she’d become a professor – but art kept calling. Under the mentorship of local pottery artist Sue Lyon, and alongside her own exploration of drawing, she began to develop a unique aesthetic. She started selling her ceramics at craft fairs and later in galleries. Thirteen years ago, she made the leap to full-time artist.
Outdoor inspiration
McDiarmid’s ceramics are both beautiful and functional. Her plates, bowls, vases, and cups are adorned with vibrant, hand-drawn floral motifs. No two pieces are alike.
She doesn’t throw clay on a wheel. Instead, she uses the hand-building method – rolling, cutting, shaping, and assembling clay one piece at a time.
Her work extends beyond the studio. During the COVID-19 pandemic, she and fellow artist Grace MacDonald launched a public art project called “Flora & Fauna” illustrating local plants and animals on windows of Kingston businesses and long-term care homes. The goal was to spark a sense of renewal and bring the outside in during a time when many people couldn’t go out.
Last year, at Design TO, she unveiled “Adrift”, an ethereal installation of suspended ceramic flowers made from reclaimed clay, set against a backdrop of delicate, paper-cut seeds. It won a Juror’s Choice Award at the show.
“My art is inspired by the solace I find in being outdoors,” she says. “A lot of it comes from my connection to the earth.”
Climate change also informs her work. One installation, “Cultivate,” in a Kingston storefront featured native Hawaiian plants – a nod to the ecological effects of global warming on fragile ecosystems. In another in Saskatoon, her “Solastalgia” piece featured a table for four, with each setting reflecting a climate-change effect.
Like any accomplished artist, McDiarmid wants people to have their say about her art. For example, some of her designs might feature two blooms leaning into each other.
“Someone might see something sensual, or that the plants are having a conversation,” she says. “Or it could also be a parent taking care of their child. But I leave what the flowers are saying to the viewer. I want them to find their own interpretation.”
