Nothing compares to the satisfaction of creating something beautiful by hand
Compiling a list of my summer reading for the books’ pages, I’m surprised and a little embarrassed to find myself admitting that high among the titles is a new memoir-come-polemic called Why We Make Things and Why It Matters, by Peter Korn, an American woodworker. Have I finally flipped?
Perhaps. It’s true that I’m not the tiniest bit interested in lathes. But I do need someone or something to speak to the craftsman manqué in me, to the hunched, desk-bound creature who secretly dreams of throwing exquisite (or even non-exquisite) pots. Like lots of people whose work does not involve their hands, and whose teachers’ idea of creativity extended only as far as the school play, I have a powerful yearning to make things, one that grows stronger every year. And since I can’t make things, I guess I’ll have to make do with reading about making things.
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