Fire Bird

February 07, 2013

When I first came to the factory, more than two years ago, it was so quiet. Abandoned for nearly two decades.
Only me, the roosters, and the breeze.
The very good news is that it is no longer quiet.
First, artist friends came to call. Spontaneous collaborations began to arise. Like Maurice building his orbs on our scrap train track. Justin recording his music. Kelly working on her documentary. Susanne building a book. Debora shooting a video. Will playing his Living Room Tour, then bringing Sarah and Ryan to share their music.
The more people entered, the more it felt like home. Like a community.
And it became clear to me how very important true collaboration and nurturing our creative fire really was.
For me it was as essential as breath.
The other morning, just before I woke, I saw myself walking through the factory. I was observing all the hands there. And over my shoulder was my grandmother observing with me. And she was pleased.
Though it has been a terribly long time coming through what felt at times like excruciating solitude, I have finally assembled the most magnificent team. From AP art students getting their first real work world experience to mothers who crave nurture of their own creative fire.
Here we gather. You have been seeing this stamp, shown below. We call it our firebird. It represents the gathering of our creative community. It represents our hope to strive for true collaboration and support of one another. Collectively, we have risen from the ashes. Each in our own time. To come together and forge something new.
Our collective mission is to create a nurturing, engaging, positive collaborative environment in which participants embrace mindful production over mass production and reinstate history, legacy, and value to goods produced.

Thanks for your continued support!