Notes from Beckah

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.

Before the candle exists there are ideas. experiements, abandoned directions and countless small descisions.    

A finished Candle may take minutes to pour, but often weeks or months to become what it eventually is.

A reflection on the unseen side of handmade work.