Julie

The meditative rhythm of stitching and therapeutic whack of mallet strikes – the noise and mess of crafting; and healing.

In 2023 I ended up in a state of total emotional burnout. It didn’t happen overnight. After five years of fertility treatments while working a full time job as a museum educator, my nervous system was shot, my soul was tired, and my spirit was deeply wounded. My identity and sense of purpose and belonging were imploding and I felt lost.

It took some time to process and understand my experiences. It was hard, but important work that helped me rebuild my sense of self and reconnect with parts of myself that had been buried by grief and trauma. Embracing my creativity eventually emerged as a meaningful pathway for healing work.

Art and music has always been part of my life and I’ve experimented with different crafts over the years. None has ever resonated quite like working with leather – for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the feel and smell. Maybe it’s the versatility and challenge. Maybe it’s that I’m a sucker for expensive hobbies. Whatever it is, it resonated and helped get me through the difficult phase of coming to terms with non-motherhood.

There was a time where I thought of my crafting as an attempt to fill the void of childlessness. This complicated my relationship to my craft and sowed resistance to creativity. It has taken me a while to reconcile this. It is only very recently that I have started to shift my perspective to focus on how the items I create are used, worn, gifted, displayed, cherished by friends, family, and customers. I’m proud of the care with which they are crafted and their durability. Having the things I make with my hands and my heart, going out into the world, is a legacy — one defined by resilience and determination to get up and keep going.