When Sean and I first began talking about publishing this site, it was to help generate traffic toward and interest in the handcrafted shave brushes sold at his etsy shop: stonhaus | bespoke. We would create a blog to post conversations and products not only limited to shaving, but the population interested in notions beyond plastic razors and non-rusting foam shave dispensers. Content will still be created on topics like crafted beer and coffee, bikes, bees, music on vinyl and exotic woods. But we’ve moved in a slightly different direction.
Since we first spoke of marriage, Sean and I began to dream aloud. The narrative projected less of a detailed vision and plan, but established a steady discourse about what life really needs to look like for us. For instance, we are not the fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants kind of people. Sean designed and built the majority of our furniture; and we like our definition of home to include a steady flesh-and-blood neighborhood. And yet, we were hit hard by the recession and still recovering, we migrate with the work, have yet to buy a home or reach our goal to live in one city for at least five years. The consequences have been positive and negative.
We’ve hit a point of late where that need for like-minded community has become necessary to our thriving. We will partake in its vitality whether physically present or no. We can play the hermit well, but feelings of isolation (rational or no) have been taking a silent toll. Like student loans coming off deferment, worse, forbearance, you have to start prescribing to heart medication and anti-anxiety meds, because you suddenly cannot breathe—a proper claustrophobic in the confined spaces. When you need to practice your art most, it is deemed irresponsible—but is there anything more practical.
We’ve learned to build homes where we are and where we go.
On the page we titled “Story,” we have tried to convey, as concisely as my long-winded self could manage, just what this stonhaus | bespoke thing is about. It is a personal project where we hope to move conversations beyond the rooms of our house. In a sense, we are building one here with the nameplate stonhaus | bespoke. Within it: we will have people in; pin things on the wall; react to the world around us in conversation, in essay, in loud thumping music and a soothing iced tea. As it is not our life, not the whole of it, this house will have a specific use. We will not speak of everything, nor could we articulate it, even if we desired to.
Here we will collect inspiration and encouragement. Maybe it will quilt together, with fine and clumsy threads both, an open letter of our pursuit. Maybe it will have a use to you, we pray it will prove some use to us.