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  • Writer's pictureRachel


Dear Reader,

I seem to be rather daunted by the task of introducing myself to you. Mainly, perhaps, because there is too much story to tell in one shot. Too much to compile together. To choose from.

So maybe I'll just start and we'll see where we end up.

Let's just welcome the shadows of leaves.

Spring is certainly feeling coy this year.



Vintage embroidery hoop, recycled cotton fabrics, wool, synthetic yarns

19" in diameter



When we were children, my dad gave us a small allowance each week we were at his house. A couple dollars, maybe. I can remember hiding money away for my future self to find. Books and pockets I knew I would return to in a forgettable amount of time. There was a desire to delight myself. To see myself delighted by my own hand.

I was under something for a long, long time. Weighted down. Blocked and inevitably leading myself to self-destructive tendencies. I've been trying to go back to how I treated myself as a child. Before the world got in, and the kindnesses I bestowed when it did. Whether I could trick myself.

I am starting to leave dollars in pockets again. Leaving small investments for my future self under the name ToolBoxEarth.

Woven breadcrumbs.

I want to see myself delighted.

I want to delight you.

ToolBoxEarth is where fiber art and the Golden Rule meet.

It's where we meet,

with the universal expectation

of Goodness and Delight.

Cheers to coming out of 'it',

Stay human,



Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman:

'Allons! the road is before us! It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d!