Rising Stars: Meet Rebekah McGill of Interlochen, MI

Today we’d like to introduce you to Rebekah McGill.

Hi Rebekah, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My inspiration has always been Northern Michigan—its rolling farmlands, quiet lake shores, and ever-changing skies. Growing up surrounded by the textures and rhythms of this landscape shaped not only who I am, but how I see. When I look at a piece of wood, I don’t just see grain. I see shorelines, waves, clouds. I see stories waiting to be told.

As a child, I would trace those patterns the way other kids gaze at clouds, imagining faces, shapes, and entire scenes hidden in the wood. My dad, a hobbyist woodworker, built decks, toys, and all kinds of projects around the house. I tagged along with a small red hammer, learning the language of tools and patience.

Years later, when I moved to Colorado, homesickness brought me back to those roots. I asked my dad to make me a wooden cutout of Michigan to hang on my wall. He crafted it with my grandpa, and it remains one of my most treasured pieces. That simple request also sparked something bigger: my dad’s retirement business, The Wooden Wall. When I eventually returned home, I joined him in the workshop, cutting Michigans on the scroll saw. I began taking home scrap pieces to sketch on, and eventually realized that if I could draw it, I could cut it That moment was the quiet beginning of everything.

My first pieces were humble. I posted them online and sold one. Then my dad invited me to hang a few at one of his shows. They didn’t even have frames, but by the end of the event, nearly every piece was gone. It was the first sign that what I was creating resonated with others.

In 2023, after completing Yoga Teacher Training, I decided to make custom boards as gifts for my teachers. Their reaction was immediate and heartfelt—two of them pulled me aside at the graduation reception, insisting I had something special. Their belief in me changed the way I saw my own work. Yen Yoga went on to commission my first large-scale piece, pushing me to refine my framing and design process. That community also led me to Tinker Studio on Old Mission Peninsula, my very first retail account.

For a time, I shared a booth with my dad’s business, slowly growing a following. That’s how I connected with Silver Slag & Stone in Suttons Bay, another early partner who believed in my work. Eventually, I had enough momentum to step out on my own.

When I think back to where this began—a few scraps of wood and a homesick heart—it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed with gratitude. My work is still growing, and so am I. I’ve been lifted every step of the way by a father who taught me to make, a community that believed in me early, and local businesses that gave me a chance. None of this exists without them.

Every piece I create starts the same way: with the grain. The lines, knots, and curves guide me, whispering of the landscape that raised me—the place that will always be home. Their support, like those grain lines, runs through everything I make.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Business doesn’t come as naturally to me as the art itself does. Making art felt like a path I was meant to follow—it just unfolded. I never had to force it. I saw shapes in the wood grain, and before I even fully understood what I was doing, I was creating something that felt deeply connected to who I am. But turning that creative impulse into a business is an entirely different story.

In my world, balance is a moving target. It shifts by the day, sometimes by the hour. More often than not, my business takes a back seat to life. There are evenings when I’m exhausted, surrounded by half-folded laundry and Legos on the floor, knowing there’s work waiting for me in the shop but all I can do is breathe.

And yet, I know there’s a demand for my work. That’s both a gift and a weight. I’ve had moments of wondering whether it’s worth the extra stress. Because creating is supposed to bring me peace, not pressure. It’s my respite. It’s the one thing I can lose myself in completely. When everything else feels chaotic, the process of making something-of cutting, sanding, painting-grounds me.

That’s what makes it complicated. When life gets hectic, it can feel counterintuitive to add more work to my plate. But what I really need most in those moments is to create. Not for sales or shows or deadlines, but because it reminds me who I am. Art is the thing that steadies me, even when I’ve convinced myself I don’t have time for it.

I’m still learning how to hold both business and art, ambition and family, structure and flow. Some days I get it right, some days I don’t. But I’ve realized the goal isn’t to be perfectly balanced. It’s to keep creating anyway.

Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
What do you do? What do you specialize in? What are you known for?
I’m a woodworking landscape artist, and I create original wall art pieces made entirely out of wood. Each work is one of a kind—no two are ever exactly alike. My landscapes are deeply inspired by Northern Michigan, often featuring Lake Michigan dunescapes, inland lakes, and iconic tree lines. My work blends natural textures with clean design to capture the serenity of the places that shaped me.

What are you most proud of?
I’m incredibly proud of the process I’ve developed. The way I design each piece around the wood grain itself, letting the material guide the landscape that emerges. I care deeply about authenticity, attention to detail, and creating pieces that evoke a sense of calm. One of the best compliments I hear is, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” I take a lot of pride in that uniqueness.

What sets you apart?
My work isn’t just inspired by the landscape—it’s built from it. The wood isn’t just a canvas; it’s an active part of the composition. Every knot, line, and curve is considered and woven into the scene, making each piece a singular moment in time. I think that connection to both place and material is what makes my work stand out.

Alright, so to wrap up, is there anything else you’d like to share with us?
I named my company Terracotta Voyager because it weaves together two distant points in the arc of human history: the ancient creation myths where life was breathed into vessels of clay, grounding humans of the earth, and the Voyager Space missions, the farthest-reaching man-made probes in history. To me, it represents being deeply rooted in the natural world while also setting our intentions toward the stars. I hope to evoke that sense of humbled awe through my art.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://terracottavoyager.studio
• Instagram: terracottavoyager.studio