It’s been a strange year.
Our regular customers will know that we launched our new and improved website one year ago to combat the lacklustre look and poor performance of the old one. Even though the things we make, and us as people, are quite analogue, we still need to keep up with new technology; striking that peculiar balance between the hand-made nature of the journals and the mind-bending technology needed to get people to see those journals.
Admittedly, we’ve never been totally comfortable in this new technological age but we’ve learnt that we need to keep our eyes and minds open to it because, if we do not embrace change early, then those changes will probably overwhelm us later on.
We’re pleased to report that here and now, one year later, all the hard work seems to have paid off. We’ve had some lovely messages from our old customers to let us know how good the new website looks and how much easier it is to use than the old one and we’ve been getting plenty of new friends of Earthworks Journals too.
Of course, this increase in customers has meant that we have been very busy in the workshop. The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed that our waiting list has been a bit longer, that we haven’t been keeping up with social media and that we haven’t sent a newsletter out for a while.
But, we’d just like to let you know that, even though we haven’t been on social media and that we haven’t sent out a newsletter for a while, it doesn’t mean that we don’t appreciate you! We do! Very much! It’s just that we haven’t had much time to do anything else.
Not that we tend to do much else, anyway. We lead a strange and insular life in our workshop home; just the two of us with our two Border Terriers, Tanner and Hob. We’re not ones for socialising; we don’t go to pubs or out for meals; we rarely go to the theatre or cinema; we don’t go shopping (bar the occasional rummage around a bric-a-brac shop or second-hand bookshop); we inhabit our own world.
Our one diversion is walking.
Often we will spend weekends going on, what we call, our big walks. These are usually around 10 miles long, planned out by plotting three random points on an OS map and finding a route between them. This means that we usually miss out on the well-worn picturesque locations but we do find some peculiar and interesting places along the way:
But even these ‘big walks’ have been put on the back burner this year due to the combination of a heavy workload and the abnormally hot summer (neither us nor the dogs do well in the heat). Even the daily dog walk was changed in the exceptional summer this year; rather than going out mid-afternoon, we started to take the dogs out to our local woods late in the evening, just as it was getting dark.
It’s remarkable what a difference a simple change can make if we embrace it rather than fight against it. It’s easy to bemoan a change to a well-worn routine without appreciating how it can make us look at life a little differently.
Obviously, we’ve been out in the woods at night before, but to break a well-established routine and do it every night lets you experience the woods in a different light. Quite literally! Everything is different; the golden glow of the last of the light drifts in sideways and makes the trees look like oil paintings; the musty smells of the forest floor are intensified at night and become strangely comforting; and the sounds! The woods come alive as the darkness arrives. We’ve seen foxes, deer, badgers and bats; all things that shy away from the daytime crowds.
I think it’s important that we strive to do this once in a while, just to try and see things differently. When we first had the idea to start Earthworks Journals it seemed like a bit of a pipe dream. Could we really make a living making leather journals? On the rare occasion we meet someone and tell them what we do, they often say “What, and you make a living doing that?”. We know it seems unlikely, yet we do. I mean, let’s face it, we’re never going to be rich doing it, but that’s not why we do it. We do it so that we can comfortably inhabit our own world. That was always the plan. To earn enough to pay our own way and not take anything in benefits; to not allow our business to lose its way in the pursuit of money; to be free to live our own life, however small and strange that life may be!
It’s not completely stress free, obviously. We still have to worry about how the next bill is going to be paid, just like everyone else but…
… walking around our woods always makes things right.
I’ve been going there my entire life; I went there as child with my dad; I went there in my teenage years with friends; and I still go there now with Samantha and the dogs. Whenever we get stressed, anxious or unhappy a walk in the woods will, more often than not, help to quell those worries. Some days Samantha and I will walk around excitedly discussing new ideas for Earthworks, other days we will walk around in near silence with our own thoughts. It was in the woods where we discussed and planned this blog post.
I invariably turn to Henry Thoreau quotes on these blog posts to put my transcendentalist ramblings into a far more eloquent form. And this one’s no different:
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms…”
~ Henry David Thoreau
Or that other great philosopher:
“What we should be doing is working at the job of life itself!”
~ Tom Good, The Good Life
(All photos on this post by Samantha Webster.)