Rudy Hopkins looks up at the parting rain clouds with the wonder of a child watching a balloon disappear. Leaning against the damp railing outside his shop, a glass of white wine in one hand, he gestures grandly toward the October afternoon's emerging sunshine as a middle-aged couple strolls up the ramp in precautionary raincoats. Hopkins meets them with a delighted chuckle. "Life treats us well," he says. The couple nods and disappears through the strips of screen covering the doorway into Crafts People's pottery building. Inside, Mary Elwyn, Hopkins's partner of 30 years, waits to greet them. She asks if they'd like a glass of lemonade, wine, or coffee to enjoy while they explore the crowded room. Near a wood stove are heavy earthen bowls and mugs stacked on a shelf. Small ornaments and oil burners hang from the rafters around the cash register. Tall, freestanding shelves hold brightly glazed, elegant vases, blown-glass sculptures, and small ceramic figurines. One feels as though it would take years to give each piece its due attention; and as the families and couples head back out into the soggy afternoon, they're reminded by Hopkins that there is more to see.

"We want people to feel like they are visiting our home, [and can] relax and take their time," Hopkins says of his shop, which sells the work of over 500 artisans, half of whom are from the Hudson Valley. Crafts People occupies four buildings nestled into 25 acres bordering the Ashokan Reservoir in West Hurley. Originally a bungalow camp owned by Hopkins's grandmother, the property also includes greenhouses, studios, Hopkins and Elwyn's residence, and a flooded quarry where Hopkins breeds koi fish. The gravel paths between the buildings are lined with potted plants for sale, and retro lawn chairs and tables dot the surrounding yard, encouraging visitors to picnic.

Crafts People's handpicked selection represents a variety of styles and a wide price range. "If you go into a gallery that has 30 pieces placed beautifully, it's nice to look at, but you won't necessarily find a bowl for your Aunt Ida," Hopkins jokes, in reference to his shop's overwhelming selection. In the jewelry building, cases of gold and silver necklaces, rings, and earrings are left open so that visitors may try them on. Elwyn's exquisitely detailed metalwork, which sits in a case on the far side of the shop, includes delicate chains, earrings, and unusual flatware. Shelves in the middle of the room hold finely crafted wooden chess sets, turned-wood bowls, and stained-glass panes. In the property's two smaller buildings, visitors can find wrought-iron sconces, handmade candles, paper, and clothing, and a small selection of imported crafts. When asked about inventory or revenue, Hopkins shakes his head, his eyes earnest as he professes that he does not—nor does he care to— measure his success in such terms. He is unable to offer more than a guess as to how many pieces he has in the shop at any given time, though the number is easily five figures.

A former English teacher, Hopkins ran a children's arts-and-crafts summer camp on the property, ultimately closing it in the early '70s due to the demands of single parenthood. Having discovered an aptitude for ceramics, he began selling his own work from the porch of his home. After he met Elwyn, then a promising apprentice with a Tinker Street jeweler, at a trade show, she began selling her jewelry at his burgeoning shop. "She became our resident jeweler," Hopkins laughs affectionately, quickly adding, "in more ways than one!"