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Art
When I Became an Artisan
It’s a gift, I guess
I have been an artisan for quite some time without really thinking about it. It was not until I felt the urge to write something and was looking for a subject (and a keyword) that it made sense to share my wonderment at this achievement.
When I first became an artisan, I didn’t have many people to share the news with. JD, my terrier, only knows two words: biscuit and walk. If I said artisan to him, he might try to find it and kill it.
I know what Dave’s reaction would be — same as when I mention art or craft to him. He looks pained and sad for me and my delusion.
I tried mentioning it to someone on a dog walk once. Said it quickly under my breath and hoped they wouldn’t notice. They didn’t. I let them carry on assuming I was unemployed; it felt more appropriate somehow than giving myself airs and graces.
Truth is, I didn’t really know what an artisan was. When I was first awarded this honorary title, I didn’t pay it much mind. I was doing other stuff at the time. Too busy to look it up.
The word came back to me yesterday. I was checking internet threads on a variety of things when I came across some moaning about a site I publish my designs on. The poster was complaining about their income, saying they…
