It’s been a while since I’ve been in touch on Hive. Not because I haven’t been up to anything or had nothing to say, but because I’m in the middle of a phase that’s hard to capture in a few quick words. Over the past year, and especially the past few months, I’ve been working on something that both my partner and I find very meaningful. It’s a project that’s unfortunately only growing slowly, and with a lot more pitfalls than we could have anticipated. But it’s also a project that we both can and want to put our heart and soul into, and with a lot more depth than we ever dared to hope for.
And no, I’m not talking about a product that’s “almost in the shop” or some big launch that requires a bit of marketing. We’re not ready for a website yet; there’s still more work to be done before we reach that point. But what we are working on is very close to both of our hearts, and we both put a lot of hours into perfecting it so that when we think we are ready for launch, it will reach others.
We are now in a more advanced phase of that project, although it often still feels like laying the foundation while the house is already half in scaffolding. There are certainly days when I think, "Why is this taking so long?" And there are days when I see what we have already achieved from the day we had the idea until now. It should be noted that my partner still works almost full-time, and therefore has very little time to work on the project. Which, in practice, means that he has no free time left. Traditionally, working with wood already takes a lot of time, but if you also have to do that on your weekend days, then there is no free time left. In that respect, realize that we have already moved a mountain.
In addition, it gives me a fantastic feeling that I have now completed my first real assignment. A work commissioned for someone else, something with a lot of emotional value, made with heart and soul. And very personalized with symbolic meaning. I will not share the image of that work. Sorry people, but some things must remain private, especially if they are not mine to show. But I can say that it was well received. Very well, even. And that gives me courage to continue on the path I have taken.
What I can show, on the other hand, is the card that I made for that assignment. I drew it myself, in line with the atmosphere of the work. A small gesture, a detail perhaps, but one that I am proud of. And since this card does not contain any private information, this image is one that I can share.
It feels symbolic as this card is: the work itself remains private, but a flower is allowed to bloom in sight. The real symbolic meaning of the card remains hidden because it is only known to the recipient of the card.
As it goes, the world just kept turning while I tried to make something beautiful. The grass kept growing, so it had to be mowed. The dishes piled up. And Skipper, my beautiful, sensitive, sweet four-legged friend, also asked for attention, exercise, reassurance, and rhythm every day. And of course, he gets that.
With Skipper, we are slowly building up his confidence in walking. Small steps. Sometimes we manage to walk fifteen minutes longer than last week. Sometimes we turn around after five minutes because there are too many stimuli. But that, too, is progress, even though it sometimes feels like a repetition of moves.
Yet it is precisely there, in that repetition, in that daily return to the same path, that I see the value. Every walk is an exercise in patience, trust, and observation. And that works through in everything I make.
Although I live here in my little remote corner of the world, I do look around me and see how the world is becoming more and more expensive. Everything is going through the roof: groceries, energy, even rest seems to have become a kind of luxury item. It makes me restless in my head again. I worry about the rising prices, because it is only a short distance before life becomes unaffordable. I can already see that we are really going to cut back on things again. If you are already living on a minimum, you immediately notice it when everything becomes 10% more expensive. So I don't know how we can cut back even further.
But despite these worries, I try to find at least something every day that is worth thinking about. Fortunately, I still succeed. For example, recently, there was a young wagtail on our roof. Fluffy, with a slightly dazed look, but curious. As if he wanted to say: you don't have to be able to do everything, as long as you look.
That moment stuck. Not big, not earth-shattering, but real.
I will post more often again. But as may be clear, I do that in my way. At my own pace. Not because I think I 'have to', but because I feel like sharing again. Sometimes in images, sometimes in words. Maybe even soon in small wood projects again, after all, that is what we are working on every day. Only it is not always shareable here. I do not think that what I make on commission is my place to share.
To you, it may seem that I have disappeared, but the delayed content does not mean that I am standing still. It only means that I am taking the time to land where I want to be.
