Mandala Purse

 Pa·tience (ˈpāSHəns/)

Noun

1.       The capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.

The initial spark for this purse started in the summer, its making took six months, at least. I said yes too quickly, not realizing how much time I simply did not have, trying to work the day job, plan a wedding, have a small social life and maybe eat and sleep too.  Luckily, the friend who “ordered” this purse is patient and as an artist herself, understanding of my too-tight schedule.  As soon as I recovered from jet-lag, we met again to make sure we were on the same page and I began.  The pattern is one I designed for myself, about a year and a half ago, so I was able to make some improvements on the original, which was fun.

The cutting, tooling, dying and final construction was tucked into evenings and weekends. I am grateful for having this project upon my return.  It would've taken me a bit longer to jump back into the studio on my own. I didn't plan the tooling pattern on the sides and back, I just worked, and trusted my hands and tools.  This is how I work on mandala pieces, no matter the size.

The clock was ticking on my personal deadline. I pushed hard to get it done before I left for Christmas, and man, that day was completely Worth. It.

I am so happy this purse is now hers, and excited to get rolling on the next project on my list!

 

Can we talk about leather patina for a minute? The front and back of these two purses were cut from the same hide! The dark one is mine, about a year and a half into heavy, everyday use, the pale baby is the new one, and I can’t wait to see how she ages! I do not baby my purse, it’s been rained on, the back is nearly blue from rubbing along my dark jeans, and it’s been on adventures and cushioned sleeping cats on occasion.  All of these things have added character, and daily use has softened the sides and straps to perfection.  I love how leather ages, can you tell?