Awenwyth

We don’t have to make most things by hand anymore.

That is worth admitting at the beginning.

If we need soap, we can buy it.

If we need a blanket, bowl, candle, loaf of bread, shelf or basket, someone somewhere has already figured out how to manufacture thousands of them quickly, consistently and usually for less money than it would cost us to make one ourselves.

Modern manufacturing is remarkably good at what it does.

So why are there still people standing at worktables measuring oils, shaping clay, knitting wool, carving wood, pouring candles, baking bread and tying bundles of herbs?

Why do we still make things by hand?

At AWENWYTH, we think the answer begins with the difference between needing the object and needing to know how things are made.

Making Changes Our Relationship With Things

Buy a loaf of bread and you have bread.

Make one and you have bread, too.

But you also know something you didn’t know before.

You learn how dough should feel beneath your hands.

You learn what happens when the kitchen is cold.

You learn that yeast has its own schedule and doesn’t particularly care what time you planned supper.

Eventually your hands begin recognizing things before your mind has finished explaining them.

Most crafts work this way.

Knowledge slowly moves from instructions into your hands.

That kind of knowledge is difficult to get any other way.

Materials Stop Being Abstract

Making also teaches us where things come from.

Soap isn’t simply a bar that appears on a shelf.

It begins with fats and oils, water and lye.

A knitted scarf begins as fiber.

Bread begins with grain.

A wooden spoon begins with a tree.

A candle begins with wax and wick.

A bundle of dried lavender begins with a seed, soil, sunlight, rain and somebody remembering to water it.

Once you’ve made things yourself, finished objects become less mysterious.

You begin seeing the materials hiding inside them.

You Learn to Respect Skill

Handcraft also has a useful way of humbling us.

Something can look very easy when somebody else knows how to do it.

Then we try.

The first loaf is dense.

The seam wanders.

The soap thickens much faster than expected.

The supposedly simple knitted rectangle somehow becomes a trapezoid.

And suddenly the person who made it look effortless seems considerably more impressive.

Trying a craft teaches us to recognize skill in other people’s hands.

That alone may be reason enough to learn one.

Handmade Leaves Evidence

Machines excel at repetition.

Human hands do not.

We can aim for consistency, but the hundredth handmade object will rarely be absolutely indistinguishable from the first.

A swirl moves differently through a bar of soap.

A stitched line wanders slightly.

Glaze pools differently around the edge of a bowl.

Wood grain changes from one spoon to another.

The maker adjusts to the material.

Those differences are not automatically defects.

They are evidence.

Somebody was there.

Making Teaches Patience

This may be one of the less fashionable benefits.

Making things requires waiting.

Seeds need time to grow.

Herbs need time to dry.

Soap needs time to cure.

Bread needs time to rise.

Knitting requires row after row after row.

There are certainly ways to make some processes faster.

There are others that simply take as long as they take.

The material gets a vote.

That can be frustrating.

It can also be useful.

Not everything in life improves because we made it happen faster.

Making Also Teaches Failure

Not everything made by hand turns out well.

We should probably admit that too.

Sometimes the color is wrong.

Sometimes the loaf doesn’t rise.

Sometimes the measurements were misunderstood.

Sometimes an idea that seemed wonderful on paper becomes considerably less wonderful once it exists in three dimensions.

The worktable teaches us what to do next.

Figure out what happened.

Salvage what can reasonably be salvaged.

Learn something.

Try again.

There is considerable value in becoming less frightened of an imperfect first attempt.

We Don’t Need to Make Everything

AWENWYTH is not a call for everyone to abandon modern life and begin producing every household necessity from raw materials.

We certainly don’t.

There are things other people make better.

There are skills we don’t possess.

There are days when buying the bread is considerably more sensible than making it.

Handcraft doesn’t have to become another impossible standard we set for ourselves.

Make what interests you.

Learn what you want to know.

Buy good things from other people when you can.

Appreciate the skill involved.

That is enough.

Some Knowledge Is Worth Carrying

What concerns us isn’t that people buy things.

It is the possibility of useful knowledge disappearing because nobody believes it matters anymore.

How to mend something.

Grow something.

Preserve something.

Cook without opening a box.

Use a hand tool.

Make a simple object.

Recognize useful plants.

Care for materials so they last.

None of us needs to know everything.

But collectively, it seems wise for somebody to remember.

Why AWENWYTH Makes Things

That brings us back to our own worktable.

We make soap because we enjoy the transformation from oils to finished bar.

We dry herbs because summer doesn’t last.

We assemble bells because there is something satisfying about an object that moves and sounds when a door opens.

We make small bottles because sometimes people like giving an intention, hope or memory a physical form.

We work with fiber, wax, wood, plants and whatever other useful materials find their way onto the table because we enjoy discovering what they can become.

Could we buy these things?

Of course.

That isn’t the point.

The Human Part

Perhaps this is the simplest answer.

We still make things by hand because human beings have always been makers.

Before there were factories, there were hands.

Hands shaped clay.

Worked wood.

Spun fiber.

Mixed bread.

Tended gardens.

Mended clothing.

Made soap.

Built homes.

Then those hands taught other hands.

We don’t need to return to the past to understand the value in continuing that chain.

The world has changed.

Our tools have improved.

Our knowledge has grown.

Good.

We can carry all of that forward.

And still occasionally stand at a table with raw materials in front of us and ask:

What can I make from this?

At AWENWYTH, we hope people keep asking that question for a very long time.

AWENWYTH
Old Ways. Handmade Things.