“A Dream Carried for a Lifetime…”

It's been a very long time since I wrote about, let alone discussed this particular dream I've carried most of my life. Someone recently asked me what my drive has been to pursue what appears to them, a very widespread list of things that don't always seem to make sense when compared to each other. Very few will be able to grasp the meaning when I say it grows exponentially in its simplicity. It's just me.

I've never claimed to be easy to figure out, but all of it in my mind's eye relates to each other in one way or another. I will try to put this all together in something people can follow along with and welcome thoughts on it. I'm writing this as I think of it, so be mindful there are a lot of words. I think of these things everyday.

I simply wanted to grow old doing the things I loved, with the people I love. I figured one day when I'm gone, The places my children went, the things they do, and the people they become, I would be carried with them and see through their eyes how much further they could go. Providing for your loved ones doesn't stop when you aren't there.

In an era dominated by digital technology and modern conveniences, the concept of retreating into a world where craftsmanship, historical techniques, and self-sufficiency reign supreme might seem like a nostalgic fantasy. However, for me, this vision isn't just a retreat but a reclamation of skills, knowledge, and a way of life that connects us deeply with our past.

Imagine a place where the sound of hammer on anvil is not a relic of history but a daily melody. Say, the art of blacksmithing isn't just practiced; it's celebrated. Workshops where individuals learn to forge not just metals, but a connection to human heritage. This isn't about rejecting modern life; it's about understanding our roots. By engaging in activities like woodworking, leatherwork, and metalwork, we're not only crafting items but crafting a tangible repository and community of learning, sharing, and innovation within tradition.

I've always felt my own home and workshops could be more than just the places I seclude myself into. At the front, it's always been a place I would hope my children could learn more about me, and themselves. In the bigger picture I've always enjoyed teaching other people and being able to do so under those conditions are heaven for me.

This haven would be more than just land; it would be a living museum where experimental archaeology thrives. I mean, for me there's even romanticism in something people take for granted, clothing for example- fashion isn't just about wearing clothes; it's about understanding how our ancestors adorned themselves using the materials and tools of their time. People could easily delve into the past, recreating garments with appropriate techniques, thus preserving not just the skills, but the stories woven into each stitch. It's those woven stories that I love so much.

I always envisioned the place I decided to put my roots down for the last time as a perfection I could fall asleep to every night with a smile on my face. Thanks to my mom and dad, I grew up spending a lot of time out in the woods of Michigan and from time to time in other places in the country. As I grow older it got more difficult to visit those places and each time Upon returning to the modern world it got more difficult to leave. Even at a desk job in my 30s, I frequently found myself wandering off back to those places in search of a quieter time to just enjoy the sunset.

This place, spanning 20 to 30 acres of secluded land, would embody principles of sustainability. Natural gardening would not only provide for our basic needs but would also serve as an educational platform. Techniques like companion planting, permaculture, and heirloom seed saving would be taught, allowing for a deep dive into sustainable agriculture. Food preservation methods like canning, smoking, and drying would ensure that the harvests extend beyond the growing seasons, reinforcing our autonomy from modern systems.

All structures on this land would echo the past, constructed using log or rough hewn building and stonework. This isn't merely about aesthetics; it's about living within the materials provided by nature, learning to build with what the earth offers. These buildings would stand as testaments to human ingenuity, where each log and stone placed is a lesson in architecture, engineering, and environmental harmony.

To relate this vision to others, I emphasize the communal aspect. I am a jack of many trades but there's just too much in one lifetime to learn everything. This place would be a sanctuary for those who wish to disconnect from the relentless pace of contemporary life, to reconnect with the earth and each other. Here, everyone could:

- Learn: Through workshops and hands-on experience, individuals could acquire skills that are both rare and enriching.

- Teach: Those with knowledge could pass it on, ensuring these crafts do not fade into obscurity.

- Create: Every participant would have the opportunity to innovate within these ancient arts, perhaps finding new uses for old techniques.

- Connect: Building this community would foster deep, meaningful relationships based on shared values and experiences.

I envision gatherings where stories are told, not just through words but through the objects we create. The land would be a testament to what we can achieve when we turn back to the earth and our hands for inspiration. By sharing this vision, I would hope to inspire others to join in this journey of historical escapism, not as escapists from the modern world, but as explorers of a rich tapestry of human history, ready to weave new threads into its ongoing narrative. Together, people can create a haven where the past and future meet, where every day is an opportunity to learn, grow, and craft our place in the world.

From my earliest memories, I've been captivated by the stories woven into the fabric of time—stories told not through books but through the tangible remnants of human ingenuity. This dream of creating a haven for historical escapism and the revival of old crafts isn't just a recent ambition; it's the culmination of a lifelong journey driven by an intrinsic passion for the technologies and crafts of yesteryear.

As a young child, I found myself drawn to the simplest yet most profound elements of creation. The sight of a blacksmith at work, the scent of wood being shaped by hand, the texture of leather being transformed by tools—these experiences ignited a spark within me. This wasn't merely an interest; it was a calling. I began to see the world not as a place of consumption but as a canvas for creation, where every material had a story, and every tool was a key to unlocking that narrative.

This dream has been the guiding light in my educational and professional pursuits. I've dedicated significant portions of my life to learning and mastering these ancient crafts. My hands have shaped iron, wood, and leather, each project a step closer to understanding our ancestors lives. This pursuit wasn't just about acquiring skills; it was about embodying a philosophy where time slows, and the value of work is measured not by speed but by the depth of connection to the material and the craft.

Over the years, I've become a repository of knowledge, not just for the techniques but for the stories behind them. Every skill I've learned, from casting metal to preserving food, has been an echo of human history, a lesson in resilience, creativity, and adaptation. Holding onto this dream has meant continuously seeking out opportunities to learn from craftsmen, historians, and anyone who could teach me more about how things were once done.

This Dream as a Lifestyle:

This dream has shaped my lifestyle choices, leading me to value experiences over possessions, craftsmanship over convenience. My home is a testament to this philosophy, filled with items I've made or that have been made in the traditional way, each piece a conversation starter about its origin and creation process.

Now, as I surrender this vision of a place dedicated to historical crafts, it's a natural extension of my life's work. It's an invitation of sorts for others to join in this exploration, to share in the joy of discovery and creation. This dream has been with me from the beginning, acting as both an anchor and a compass, guiding me through life while keeping me rooted in the earth and its gifts.

This lifelong commitment to these technologies and crafts isn't just about nostalgia or escapism from the modern world. It's about a profound respect for the human spirit's ability to innovate, adapt, and create. It's about ensuring that these skills, these connections to our past, are not lost but are instead celebrated, taught, and passed down, ensuring they continue to inspire future generations. Through this dream, I aim to live out what I've always felt: that in the act of creation, we touch not just the past but the very essence of our humanity.

If you've managed to get this far, thank you.