I went to art school. All in all, it was a great experience, but I tend to be a bit self-deprecating when I talk about it. Especially when I get together with old friends from high school, who all have Masters degrees in things like public policy, or worse, who are finishing up their PhDs in chemistry or neuroscience or whathaveyou. It's not that I'm embarrassed about being an artist. Or that I think I'm not as smart as them. I am. It's just that my school didn't have classes like, you know, math. And it's easy to make fun of myself for that.

It was only recently that I realized that my art school education had taught me one of the most valuable lessons in my life, much more applicable than calculus: I learned how to fail. And how to not be afraid of failure.

If you're not familiar with the art school routine, it goes like this: each week you get an assignment—draw, paint, design, whatever—at the end of class, and at the beginning of the next week's class you pin your work up for critique. Critique in front of the whole class, by the whole class. It teaches you to talk about your work, and other people's work constructively and effectively. But it also teaches you how to take criticism, and that you won't always succeed on the first, second, third try. You toughen up. You detach from your work a bit, which is hard, because creating anything—art, craft, writing—is a very personal experience.

I don't think anyone ever gets to the point where they don't feel upset if a project they are really proud of gets ripped into... years later it still hurts if a design I really like gets rejected by a client. The point isn't about detaching yourself completely, but rather about being able to share your work easily. And that's my point.

It's hard to show other people your work, especially in an open forum like the internet, where anyone can leave a comment anonymously. It's hard to have the courage to think that what you're making is something that other people might actually want to buy, and to open up a shop. But the more you do it, the more you put yourself out there, the less scary it gets. And when you see that lots of people are in the same boat, like in art class, you remember that nobody gets it right 100% of the time. (And the ones who appear to—trust me—they don't think that they do.)

For me, this is a lesson I've been taking out of the art context and bringing into my everyday life, too. If you're scared of failure you don't challenge yourself—in life or in work.

image: digital print by linocutboy

You know when you're checking out Etsy or some other site and you come across something really great, I mean really great, and you get excited and you can feel your heart start beating a little faster? (Or is that just me that gets overly dorkily excited about handmade awesomeness?) That's how I felt when Peg and Awl applied for a spot on cosa verde.

Peg and Awl is the husband-and-wife team that is also behind the amazing  theblackspotbooks and wandering, and one of my newest obsessions, plundered. SO much creativity there. But I think I love Peg and Awl best.

From their shop description: We rummage through the neighborhood and surrounding neighborhoods for housing materials like the pine floor joists that we have so far used in the shoppe to turn into new treasures....Each piece that we make is one of a kind. Many of our pieces are made from Olde Growth Pine joists and beams from 19th century houses in Philadelphia and the surrounding area. These pieces still bare the beautiful marks of a life past such as hard cut nails, blackened nail holes, knots and saw marks.

That's it, folks. I am smitten. And incredibly envious of their ready supply of 19th century floor joists...

If it were just a bit warmer... I would want to grab all this and head up to the nature preserve to spend an afternoon sketching in the woods. Come on, spring!

Hemp jumper from stephanieteague; journal crafted from old furniture wood from lacunawork; print on eco-friendly sugar cane paper from corduroy; bag crafted from an old military surplus jacket (love!) from refreshaccessories

Now, my experience in skateboarding was very brief (as in one afternoon) and ended in me landing right smack on my face, but I have always loved skateboards (just from afar). I've seen a number of people out there using old decks to make jewelry, but I love the idea of this line of bags and accessories by beck(y), which combines the hard, distressed material of the skateboard deck with soft, pliable fabric or leather.

I particularly love the transformation of these old, beat up decks into precious, "luxury" accessories. It's a funny meeting of worlds, a skateboard clutch, but one that makes almost perfect sense: those battle-scarred decks are precious materials with a history—why note tote your favorite old board (or someone elses' for that matter) around with you as a glamorous clutch.

Has anybody seen any really great uses of repurposed materials that they'd like to share? Or know of some leads for sustainable crafting materials? Shoot me an email at mail (at) cosaverde.com!