Joseph Cartwright
The Chairmaker Whose Hands Pray
A chair well made is a prayer without words.
Each chair I make carries the weight of many prayers — not spoken, but carved into every joint, sanded into every curve. I live quiet among the Shakers, where work and worship are one. My love, too, is held in silence, like a secret grain in the wood. I do not seek to change this. What is pure endures, and what is enduring is beautiful.
What I'm Into: mortise-and-tenon joints, the schoolhouse at dusk, maple in the winter light, Eleanor's quiet steps, silent devotions
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