I make my shit, yo

So there is a kerfuffle (that I won't discuss greatly) about just how 'handmade' certain items described and being sold as such are in reality.  It's almost as contentious an argument as 'what is art' but with a lot more integrity at stake.

And a movement is building to show the hands of artists and artisans so people know that we aren't just fronting bitches.

I didn't take a photo of my hands for a bit as one, my manicure would make Gollum cringe and two, well, I'm lazy.

But I finally got around to doing it today and thought I would share it with you.

Note the ring on my hand is made by another true handmade artisan who can be found here: The Sly Fox.

No, I don't spin my own yarn.  Nope I don't dye it.  I didn't invent intestines either, but I make all my own shit and doubt anyone would argue with me on that point.

We all know what the real definition of handmade is, and we all know how or why that boundary might be stretched.

But sometimes the boundary is pushed right off a fucking cliff.  And everyone knows when things fall off a cliff, they're usually destroyed in a big, fiery explosion. 

1 comment:

  1. A big, fiery explosion. Sounds like the perfect premise for a new Michael Bay film! ;-)