Things for making things

I’m putting together a workshop for those who are tired of watching time rush past like the view from a runaway train. It’s for those who need to slow down. For those who want to restore conversation, slowness, hands-on work. And for those who feel the pull toward their essential animal nature, away from chaos, depersonalization, and sameness.

Lately, I’ve felt a renewed interest in things untouched by technology—things that stay within the walls of my home. The typewriter. A handwritten journal with printed photos glued in. The stereo with vinyl records. Paper books. Analog photography. A closer relationship with trees, animals, wild herbs, wood, clay, the fireplace; fixing what’s broken; making lunch or dinner with whatever’s on hand.

It’s this need for making with my hands, for physicality, for finding myself and my memories again, that has led me over the years to create vessels encrusted with objects from the past—vessels that cradle small embroideries inside.

Boxes — of glass, porcelain, wood, cardboard, or tin — are memory capsules. They accompany and explain, in three-dimensional form, the embroidery that’s taking shape within. Tangible, undeniable witnesses to an emotion, an event, a stretch of time—antidotes to the oblivion we’re all subjected to by the media’s overstimulation and the surplus of frantic information.

That’s why I’ve decided, for a moment, to set aside my precious solitude and meet in person with those who want to create their own personal vessels—memory capsules that express their identity, feelings, and emotions. There are endless ways to do this, to craft a one-of-a-kind object, like a ritual despacho infused with energy you can draw from when needed.

So: five hours on a Saturday—possibly repeated in several sessions—during which, at a slow pace, I’ll teach the technique, offer inspiration, share objects to complement those each person may bring, all connected to the theme or feeling they want to explore.

I have millions of what I call “things for making things,” saved over the years in individual and collective containers, carefully catalogued and stored. All these small objects are waiting for someone who wants to express themselves through them.

Each of us, with the right guidance, can (and should) create a work of art that expresses and whispers who we are—beyond what we show the world, for one reason or another.