We Lost Something When We Stopped Writing Letters. I Am Coming to Get It Back.
I collect stationery I do not write on nearly enough. That is ending. A defense of the handwritten letter, the well-turned phrase, the scented envelope, and the lost art of telling someone off in perfect King’s English.
The Wood Is Patient. So Am I.
I build furniture when the world gets to be too much. I am an old soul running a very modern life. The sweetest spot is somewhere in between – and a coffee table with three legs is teaching me everything about patience.