(Gift from Josh: awl made out of sharpened drill bit, Suntour allen key and linseed-oiled wood)

All That Authenticity May Be Getting Old. It's Handmade. It's Unique. It's Everywhere.

This was the headline of the New York Times' Home section. And it made me really nervous for a second. Because authenticity is my guide in work and play. Does my line reflect my life and my life reflect my true nature? Yes, but it has taken so much soul-searching and so much soul-wrenching to get here. And the work continues, in all the little ways, like not shaving my armpits even though the babe at the rec center did a double take / cringe when he caught a glimpse. I am aware that certain choices will get me what I want, but at the cost of losing what I have. My own self. And so it felt like the Times was saying, hey, you know that motto of yours? About being yourself and running your business in a transparent and honest manner? Well, that trend has set. Better get ready for the next one... where we are inauthentic? Oh gosh. With heart pounding (just a bit, could have been the espresso), I read the article and put my fears to rest. She wasn't addressing me. She was addressing the mass consumption of new and cheap "used" items. The ones seen in West Elm and Urban Outfitters. Ok good. Phew. Yeah, fuck those guys. They are the antithesis of true living. They move from one personality to another without a second's thought. Recently they have been lovin the homey, rustic look. They promote these "personal pieces" that are simply poor replicas of the real thing. But the actual real thing, the truly authentic piece, will always be golden. An authentic item has an undisputed origin. It is genuine. Precious and rare. Hard to find. And harder to be.

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