My cousin, childhood best friend and like brother Grant once said to me that he loved that song. At that point I began to think about that lyric. "These hands are all I own, they are not yours, they are my own." I come from a family of people who work with their hands. I come from a long line of musicians, quilters, carpenters, painters, artists, tile layers, knitters, crocheters, writers. We use our hands. I have such a connect to making things and appreciate more than anything something that is made because there is a beauty and always a love when someone creates something like that for you.
Just last week I made a coffee table with my dad. We collaboratively designed, crafted, assembled, and painted this. It is Hollermann through and through and as we worked together and I hours flew by without my noticing I thought about where my dad learned it, where his dad learned it, and so on. It means something to me that we made this together that I have become a part of that tradition in a new way. For everything my family isn't - we are at the heart a good, honest, capable hardworking people and I reconnected with that fact throughout it's production. I'm only sad I didn't get a chance to make more this summer with him, but I'm so, so grateful I got to do this.
Those are a few shots of the entire finished table with quotes around the boarder that are all about being the change and other things that inspire me. This table was part of a transformation for me and I hope that this table will allow me to always come home and remember my roots, remember why I care like I do, and my focus in life.
Till Next Time...
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