Appreciation is a wonderful thing:
It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.
|This is Barbar, an artist I met in a shop, who took me to all the other shops in town to show me his work.|
My parents represented, and were friends with, a number of artisans during our entire childhood. This love of building things with your own hands, working in all mediums, has rubbed off on each one of my parents' five kids, as well as a huge-mongous appreciation for others who hone their craft. We seek them out: Whether a screenprinter, a framer, a glass blower, a crystal sculptor, a weaver, a wood worker, a book binder or a woad dyer. It's of grand interest to talk to the people who's hands are so clearly marked with their work and their know-how is something we could only hope to gain one day. We're all trying.
My sister is doing a particularly good job during an annual trip to France. One year we met one of the last people that know how to work a hand-run embroidery machine.
Another year, it was the woman that lived on a lavender farm and in every corner of her house, you could smell peace. She taught us how to make soap and showed us the details of essential oil and we witnessed what life could be like if your dreams really came true.
We've met and worked with: Woad Masters,
Textile Experts ,
and even Goat Farmers,
Every year, a different adventure.
Every year, a new appreciation for what happens in another part of the world for a life, for living.