Hello and happy 2025!
First, the small stuff: our holidays were great, though I didn’t stay up til midnight or go to any parties (I turn into a gremlin if I stay out past 9 p.m. and my favorite activity is reading in bed). I hope you got to spend your holidays exactly the way you wanted.
Following up from last time: I was touched by the messages I received after my last newsletter. I’m working on a project to explore the ideas I talked about in it—of the benefits we get from doing any craft work that go way beyond the end project—and have enjoyed talking with some local artisans here in town about this. My plan is to put together a show featuring the work of several of these people and examining several aspects of this notion of craft as medicine and what it means to different craftspeople.
I took some of the money I made at the artisan market in November and purchased a branding iron. I’ve been wanting one of these for a while but haven’t been able to justify the purchase. I don’t know the best way to phrase this but here goes one attempt: How do you justify buying things for your craft when you’re not making much money from the craft itself?
The photo on the right is the cover of my new drawing notebook—I purchased it from a kid at my children’s school during their fall fair. I think it’s adorable and I’d give anything to have arms as long as either of those creatures. I’m hoping it puts me in a playful frame of mind when I go to draw furniture.
A couple of projects: One of the items I made for the artisan market was a charcuterie board with accompanying bowl. It was my first time making bowls on the scroll saw and after trying out a variety of woods, I ended up liking the Box Elder the best, as it was soft and strong and easy to sand.
To cut the inset circle, I got a big forstner bit (I think it was 2 1/2” or 2 3/4” in diameter) and removed about a 3/16” of wood (that particular piece was a beautiful feathered American Chestnut). The bit left a hole in the center, so I bored that out with a bit, then filled it with a Spalted Maple plug I made.
When I was visiting my sister a couple of months ago, she told me that she wanted a wooden knife so that people wouldn’t damage the charcuterie board I’d made her a couple of years ago. She said she was concerned about it getting scratched when people were cutting on it. I told her that it was meant to get scratched, that was part of the story and the memories and that’s the beauty of using material like wood. She just gave me a look and told me in no uncertain terms that people would not be using any sharp instruments near her board.
So I decided to make her a wooden knife, based in part on the little cheese spreaders we use in our house and on a design I saw in a store.
Lately I’ve been fascinated with the idea of fractured pieces staying in proximity. I wanted to see if I could come up with something that illustrated this using some of the mother of pearl I’d purchased early last fall. You can see my initial attempt in the knife handle—I inlaid different shapes that I’d cut out of the pearl. It’s not quite what I’m holding in my mind about fracturing and togetherness, but it’s a start at translating the ideas into reality.
Finally, I’m not the only builder in our house. My kid got a Lego set for the holidays and immediately went to work building it. I jumped in to help out so that we could get to dinner on time and so appreciated the very easy-to-follow directions. I wish all of my furniture came together so snappily.
I hope you have a good couple of weeks filled with effervescent energy from the start of the new year. ❤️
Your sensitivity to children is not overlooked. Precious!