I enjoy working with wood. I watch the YouTube guys who are often talking about making money by using repeatable processes to produce batches of small goods. I admire their dedication to making it work, but it often feels like mechanizing or industrializing the practice to me. When I make something for someone, I don't charge them. Not money, anyway. I prefer just a vague, "Oh, you'll get me back eventually. Don't worry about it. Enjoy!"
I love this. Many years ago my father painted a trompe l'oeil image of the stairs outside his house on the side of the stone stairs outside his house. It was a silly and meaningless activity from the outside but the act of doing it caused so many people to stop and ask him what he was doing and integrated him into his community in ways I never would've imagined. It's still visible today and people still ask him about it. Just the slowness of it makes me jealous, and, frankly, the practice of it makes me anxious as I'm so used to the quick hit dopamine surge email text chat im dm world we live in. This kind of article makes me wish the power would go out indefinitely and we could all just craft and read real books for a while.
I enjoy working with wood. I watch the YouTube guys who are often talking about making money by using repeatable processes to produce batches of small goods. I admire their dedication to making it work, but it often feels like mechanizing or industrializing the practice to me. When I make something for someone, I don't charge them. Not money, anyway. I prefer just a vague, "Oh, you'll get me back eventually. Don't worry about it. Enjoy!"
I’ve been searching for the words “psychological reclamation” - thank you for this!
I love this. Many years ago my father painted a trompe l'oeil image of the stairs outside his house on the side of the stone stairs outside his house. It was a silly and meaningless activity from the outside but the act of doing it caused so many people to stop and ask him what he was doing and integrated him into his community in ways I never would've imagined. It's still visible today and people still ask him about it. Just the slowness of it makes me jealous, and, frankly, the practice of it makes me anxious as I'm so used to the quick hit dopamine surge email text chat im dm world we live in. This kind of article makes me wish the power would go out indefinitely and we could all just craft and read real books for a while.
This is a finely crafted work of literature.