Notes from Beckah

One flower for an entire year of waiting. A reflection on the brief life of a lone daffodil and the first small sign that winter is nearly over.

Books about people walking into the New Zealand backcountry have a way of staying with me. A few favourites, and some thoughts on solitude, discomfort, adventure and why we choose to go into wild places.

There is plenty of advice around the first burn of a candle, and sometimes you could be forgiven for thinking you need a degree in candle making before you're allowed to strike a match. You don't. A little care matters, but your beeswax candle was made to be used.

If you've noticed a soft white bloom appearing on your beeswax candle during winter, don't worry. Bloom is a natural characteristic of pure beeswax and one of the many reasons I enjoy working with this remarkable natural material.

Sometimes the things we remember most aren't what we bought, but the care with which they were given. A quiet reflection on Greytown, books, thoughtful packaging, and the way kindness invites us to slow down.

On the drive home from Greytown, a simple act of kindness at a petrol station sent my thoughts in an unexpected direction. It became a reflection on care, the things we remember long after they've happened, and the question I now ask before anything leaves my hands.

Somewhere along the way, "I made it" became "it's handmade." This essay explores what we really mean by handmade, how creative processes have evolved, and why the words we choose matter just as much as the objects we make.

Over the last few days I've found myself thinking about markets. Not just what they're worth in dollars, but in time, attention and the quiet choice to keep showing up long after the excitement of a new idea has passed.

Winter Solstice marks a turning point.  The coldest weeks may still lie ahead, but the light is returning.  A reflection on winter mornings, small rituals, gathering indoors and noticing the subtle signs that the seasson is begining.  

One of my favourite things about markets is meeting the other stall holders. I've always loved peeking into other people's worlds - the stories tucked into magazines, the homes opened for Sunday features, the conversations had beside market tables. Because sometimes handmade objects become more than objects. They become reminders of the people behind them.

I'm a summer person through and through. Winter isn't a season that comes easily to me, but over the years I've learned to pay attention to the small things that help: a warm patch of sunlight, a cup of tea, a good book and the quiet rituals that make the colder months feel a little lighter.

Long before there were collections called Harvest, Orchard, Forage and Ritual, there was a simple habbit at our table.  Before dinner began, a candle was lit.