Now the problem I’ve got myself into is that the popular kintsugi cult depends on repair with epoxy. Most epoxy is not food-safe. Food-safe epoxy is both extremely expensive and not, as far as I can tell, available in Italy. (But the fabulous French educator Alex has done a wonderful video about it.)
Going a bit deeper I learn that Kintsugi artisans from Japan are rightfully outraged by the “cultural appropriation” of using epoxy at all.
The ritual reminds me just how confused we are in equating convenience with happiness. Spoiling yourself isn’t about making things easy; it’s about taking time to languidly cracking and munch on walnuts.
I do not impulse-buy. I look and look and then I walk away and wait for something to stick with me. If it remains a
My mother brought these bags home from France when I was a child. This obviously was before anybody (other than the French, apparently) felt the
A water kettle is one of those things that is a permanent, full-time part of the visual landscape. It’s used too often to be hidden away between. Further, a stovetop kettle will occupy one burner full-time. This is the kind of object to spend money on.
It looked like the kind of knockoffs sold by bored vendors at street markets. “That was your Grandmother’s, you know?” “It’s ugly.” “Yes.” “It’s not
During The Distance of 2020, I unexpectedly found myself “sheltered” at my mother’s home. I built a makeshift office, and then in fact I built
In December 2014 I had just moved to Berlin. It being Christmastime, there were handcraft markets, and I went to all of them, as part
The little “bible” in my hand turned out to be a 1953 printing of the 1923 Roget’s Treasury of Words, edited by O. Sylvester Mawson, assisted by Katharine Aldrich Whiting, and subsequently retitled Roget’s Pocket Thesaurus.
Last year I bought a vape to try to entice a smoking friend to switch. I thought I should not just hand over a box,
I bought in the days before the Salon del Gusto. So I took photos of it and took it around to the Piemontese cheesemakers there, asking what it was. They laughed and said it looked “Dutch”, meaning someone had faked me.
I do my shopping when I’m walking home, after midnight. Some shops are shuttered and others dark. They pass me in the night. Ombre’s lights
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