Monday, November 30, 2009

BOSTON SAMPLE SALE DEC 5TH

We're going to be throwing a holiday sample sale bash in Boston's new favorite shop, Uncle Pete's, on Charles St.
See you there

Sunday, November 29, 2009

PATCHWORK CHRISTMAS STOCKINGS

Each one - of - a -kind stocking is handmade from vintage wool, flannel and leather. Right now they are very limited and only at 41 Wharf St, so come by or call 207- 553 - 1999.
$90.



HOLIDAY 09

Down mittens, new flannels, winter jackets; Holiday 09 is now available online and at 41 Wharf St




Saturday, November 28, 2009

DIE FOR MAINE: ISLAND BOY

Growing up, I completely took for granted the natural beauty, craggy coastline and rugged landscape of my home state. When I moved to New York City at 18, I thought I'd never return to Maine.

Flash forward to 2005. I found myself packing my belongings, preparing for yet another move, this time back to Manhattan after three years in south Brooklyn. This had become something of an annual ritual: getting priced out of my apartment, frantically searching for another, and then lugging my belongings through the streets, subways, and tiny stairwells of the city. This was going to be my sixth move in 7 years, and it only seemed to be getting harder.

Over the years, moving had become a lesson in minimalism. With each move, there would inevitably come a point where I could no longer take it. I would stuff a bunch of my things in a trash bag and leave it on the curb. "I just can't be bothered to lug this crap!", I'd say to myself. So I'd ditch perfectly good possessions for someone else to find and take home. I'd lost plenty of things this way over the years. One year I threw out my sneaker collection. Another year I ditched my favorite chair and antique shipping trunk. Such is the lay of the land in New York.

The only things I refused to part with, or even pair down, were my record and book collections. It struck me as odd, even then, to so easily part with clothes or shoes or art in lieu of the heavy, unforgiving nature of books and vinyl. But for some reason, I have never been able to throw away a novel or album, no matter how little Ive listened to it or how few times Ive turned its pages. It was as I packed this burdensome load that I stumbled upon many of my old books from childhood.

Suddenly I was holding my copy of Island Boy. Written and illustrated by Barbara Cooney in 1988, Island Boy tells the story of Matthias, a boy who grows up on a remote island in Maine. The story chronicles his youth, following him as he leaves the island for a life on the sea. He ultimately returns to the island, where he raises his own children, followed by grandchildren, before dying on the same piece of land where he was born.

I had been thinking of moving out of the city for a while. I had a great job, working in production at GQ Magazine. I had my best friend, my older sister, only a trip on 7th avenue express away. I had a large and diverse group of interesting friends. I was even in a bowling league. But despite all of this, I felt something was missing. As I flipped through Island Boy, past each meticulously detailed and beautifully illustrated page, I was struck with an intense and undeniable feeling......I had to go home.

Within eight months I was moving again, this time from Manhattan back to Maine, the state I where I was born and raised. It has been three years since then, and though I occasionally miss the city, I wouldn't trade anything for my islands, farmland, and rocky coast. Cooney described Island Boy as being the closest book she has written to her heart; it was her hymn to Maine. I used to think Maine had no place in mine, but I was wrong. You're never too old to go home. It's never too late to start again.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

IN THE HEADLIGHTS

This week marked the end of deer season here in Maine.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

DEPARTURE

This video is major. Watch closely and turn it up!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

THE BONEYARD

Some pictures I took during my latest sales trip.



COMPLEX: THE ST MARTINS RUGBY

You can get your own here

Saturday, November 21, 2009

SCRIMSHAW KNIVES BY SAM MCDOWELL

New knives in from world renowned scrimshaw artist Sam Mcdowell.
Call 207 553 1999 for price and availablity


Friday, November 20, 2009

THE SEA AND THE BELLS

Screeching seagulls, cascading drums, 
ominous foghorns, achingly mournful strings.
Thirteen years ago, I discovered that dark was beautiful.
This is my favorite album of all time. 

Thursday, November 19, 2009

TODAY AT 41 WHARF ST: DIPTYQUE

Select Diptyque scents and candles, back at 41 Wharf St.
Come by or call 207.553.1999 for availability.


Monday, November 16, 2009

POP UP FLEA

This weekend we'll be at the ACL Pop Up Flea.
See you there!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

THE AMUNDSEN EXPEDITION

The only surviving image from the 1911 Amdunsen Expedition to the South Pole was recently uncovered.

Just looking at it makes me want to bundle up in this

Thursday, November 12, 2009

CHILDREN OF THE SEA

Doctors and lawyers are fine for certain folks,
but I want my children to be salty.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

FALL FAVORITES

Will keep you warm on Congress St.
Call 41 Wharf St for availablity
207 553 1999

ARTISANS DAY

Justin and I brought a little piece of our Portland ME print shop to Barneys for Artisan's Day. Ian hung out and took some pictures. We can't wait to do it again...



Monday, November 9, 2009

THE GREAT FIRE OF PORTLAND MAINE

Portland Maine has burned down twice. These picture document what was left after the most recent fire.




Longfellow wrote "Desolation Desolation Desolation!"

Friday, November 6, 2009

FIRST FRIDAY

Tonight at 37 Wharf St.
Daniel Pepice's NEW SYSTEMS: MOVIE PICTURES

ARTISAN DAY, NOV 7TH

This Saturday Justin and I will be at Barneys on Madison printing t-shirts for Artisan Day. The event runs from 12 - 5. See you there!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

DAZZLE SHIPS

I recently had the chance to check out RISD's Dazzle Plans donated by Maurice Freedman.







TREE HOUSE

Roald Gunderson uses whole trees
to make some of the coolest houses we've seen.