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What you are getting when you buy locally crafted items?

What you are getting when you buy locally crafted items?


Handcrafted items have been around since the beginning of humanity. Used to aid Pharaohs into the afterlife. As talismans hung around the neck or carried in a pocket for protection. Rock walls decorated to keep a representative record of life. Stained glass and sculpture to document spirituality. Useful purposes to keep us warm and our homes cozy. To commemorate a season, a birth, a death.

Why are we drawn to things that are made by hand? Perhaps because it represents Love, caring and connection. Not only between the artisan and the admirer, but the community…the entire Globe. Yet many people take hand crafted for granted. One should consider it a worthy investment compared to a temporary toss-a-way mass-produced item.

Handmade artistry by definition is made by the “hands” of the artisan or creator. There are no industrial machines spewing out duplicated pieces in a computerized rhythmic dance. The creations are limited to one person only capable of making so many with their two hands, or feet, or mouth. This is important! Your handcrafted piece has had attention paid to it. Far more than something manufactured.

Your item is exclusive when it has been handmade. Manufacturer’s can keep going once the designer is gone. Once a maker or artisan is gone–there are no more creations available. It is absolutely impossible to get another made. A very limited edition indeed.

Each maker has an intimate knowledge of what they are creating. Every line, texture, feeling, nuance of color, temperature and so much more. Energy is place into each piece with specific intention. Even if the piece is part of an edition, there will still be something unique to that particular item. You probably won’t see your painting on a bank wall, or the same necklace when you go to a family celebration. It is uniquely yours! Time and care was taken to create something just for you.

Do you really know where your money is going when you buy from a department store? There really is no connection is there? Investing in something handmade means you have made a connection, with the artist and the creator. You may not know them personally but they have a real story. And you get a piece of them and that story that is being told through their creation. Often it will be you that completes that story.

Artisans are thinking of you during the process. You can feel happy knowing that you are supporting another member of your Global family. The money you spend helps them obtain the necessities of life and continue the circle of community support. Most creators use local materials and products in their creations. They participate in keeping the local economy going with care and gratitude.

Creators use the best quality materials that they can from highly reputable suppliers. They research what goes into their creations. If it seems dubious from their personal exploration, it doesn’t make the cut. It is easy for them to regulate what goes into their items. They aren’t going to let something inferior leave their space.

Remember the next time you invest in something handmade, you are supporting someone outside of yourself. You have a special part of the artist forever in your collection. Feel good about being part of that circle of life and being an active member of your community.


Time Sure Flies!



Here we are at the start of Summer already!  Time sure flies by when one is busy!  Hope you haven’t been too busy and get to relax this summer.  Me…I’ll be busy moving my studio so haven’t been able to fit in any writing time it seems.  Been a whirlwind selecting new window coverings, changing decor colors…all that fun stuff when moving.

Definitely will be taking time off to have my Birthday picnic at the end of the month!

Today is Etsy’s big Canada 150 promo day so joining the ranks with all of the other Etsies out there with a flurry of social media antics.

I will be away for the month of July and hopefully I will get caught up on finishing my blog posts…”All About Crystal”, “Wondrous Bismuth” and of course the on-going tale of Baby Ugly.  

Speaking of Dolls…the 3rd in my collection is finished!  “Canadiana” has been created in my unique way for celebrating Canada’s 150.  Perhaps you too have a creative element during your celebrations…would love to hear about it!







Of Ghosts and Garnets part 1

Of Ghosts and Garnets part 1

Long ago and far away on the other side of this vast Northern Continent – lived a scrawny, filthy and always wary ginger-haired girl and her doll….Baby Ugly.

Baby Ugly was a constant naked companion. Ever present during the days with wild wide open eyes during the night. While spirits wandered through out the rest of the derelict house they could not or would not pass through the Dutch door into their bedroom. Quite possible installed for this reason.

The house with it’s spotlight windows and deep dark chimney that sat on a hill. Whose view encompassed all of the Vancouver skyline disappearing into the fade of the distant ski-hill.

Though the split door hindered the ghosts and other entities, the cast iron air vent way high near the ceiling did not. The vent was usually shut but on occasions the wispy bony spirit limbs would rattle it open, usually as the brightest of bright moonlight flooded the small area. As the lumbering Popular tree branches danced and criss-crossed their grey shadows onto the curtain-less window. To the thud of some departed heart slowed with mud and sea grass.

Not only would Baby Ugly lay there unblinking, but so would the waif of the girl. Who’s eyes were the very same shade of Denim Blue as the doll. Eyes that during the day would seal shut tight to pretend what it was like to be blind wandering around the house… and quite adeptly. Considered good practice being that only one eye was good anyways and blindness may become a regular way of life.

Certainly Baby Ugly and the girl were not afraid of ghosts. They were afraid of the living. The constant threat of bloodshed. The confusion of others. The use of implements on parts that were not designed for such implements. The looks of muddled blatant hate swinging with veiled dirty looks. They were both the unwanted, the not needed, the sore bleeding scab that one picks unconsciously. Only to go to a mirror and pick at it again full of vengeance and with renewed vigor.

We must go back further, before the house, when the scab was new. To the one bedroom slum apartment situated at the race start of the tenement. Baby Ugly and the girl dragging a cereal box on a string and picking up litter with a stick. Neither spoke at that time, with the exception when some kid would kick over the box of trash. Then the girl became so alive and with a tremendously strong pitch, would fire as many lashings at the neighborhood brat as possible. Nobody messed with her duties…