Tools with Memory
Dear friends,
I am pleased to find myself unexpectedly exhibiting in two places this summer. It wasn’t until I sat down to write you that I realized the connection between the exhibitions: There is a certain kind of object that calls to me across time. A hand-carved box among the piles of a good loppis, that worn brush hanging at the back of the shop, tool marks visible. Objects that feel like they remember being held. In a life saturated with mass-production, this is the kind of work I want to make, slowly, and with natural and found materials. With my work, I’m trying to keep something alive – the idea that useful things should be beautiful. That tools can carry memory. That what we touch, and what touches us, matters.
In this newsletter, you’ll hear about new brushes, old baskets, and old skills with new applications. Enjoy! And as always, thanks for being here.
Brukets Brushes



Located two villages and three lakes away from our house, Not Quite is an arts collective built into an old brick paper mill. In with the studios and gallery spaces, the artists at Brukets Godaste have turned, thank goodness, to the delicious art of wood-fired bread, pizza, and pastries. I’ll be exhibiting a collection of 10 brushes there this summer, including three brand new ones, fresh off my workbench! It feels right to have my brushes within sight of loaves and glowing rolls baked with the same vision of making things slowly and well. (The love letter to old things and the lineage of beautiful utility above are the artist statement for the show.)



You can view the full collection and shop the exhibition online, wherever you are! (I do recommend perusing with some fresh bread in hand if possible.) Purchases will ship after the exhibition closes on August 15th.
“Halm Sweet Halm”



Last letter (titled “Small Things”), I got to tell you about Halmens Hus and the work they’re doing to preserve and celebrate the history of halm, straw craft, in Dalsland. They hosted a project this spring inviting local craftspeople to learn some straw techniques and interpret items from their historical collection. The museum’s little case drew me in immediately with its utility and elaborate construction (one of those objects, see above). A case for sewing or tools, perhaps? A picnic basket? Where the museum’s case is made of halm and willow, I have echoed the beautiful texture by weaving straw in a seven-strand braid through straight, strong branches pruned from my garden. If you’re local and want to go, the show is open at Bengtstforst Konsthall until the end of August. Better yet, let’s go together and get ice cream after.



I love how it turned out, the curved doors letting light catch the straw’s inner gold. It does, of course, make me want to keep braiding straw (see below) and to keep making cabinets. It will be available for sale once the exhibition closes.
“To Halm and to Hold”



I put the finishing touches on my cabinet, attended the art opening, came home and cleaned off my workbench, but my hands weren’t quite finished with those processes — braiding straw, threading branches through carefully shaped pieces of wood, then watching the alchemy of weaving pull the whole thing together. I filled my workbench again. The result is a sister piece to the cabinet, a bowl (is it a basket?) that uses the same textures inspired by the historical carrying case. I love the cat eye shadows that fill the bowl in direct sunlight. If you fell in love with the cabinet but want something smaller for your home with a similar feel, this one’s for you!
That’s it for me for now. I’m going close my laptop, eat a burrito, talk quilts with a friend, stitch a little on my next project, then stride off into the weekend. I hope you’re enjoying time connecting with loved ones.
Tell me about an object that called out to you from the depths of a flea market?
With love from a summer full of wildflowers,
Anna
So refreshing and uplifting to read your words and to view your well-loved work.
The new brushes are so wonderful!