The quiet beginning

I’ve been making objects under the name ilouva for a while now, mostly alone, mostly quietly — the kind of thing you tell yourself you’ll write about “once there’s more to show.” There’s rarely a lot to show. Fourteen pieces in, I’ve decided that’s exactly when to start.

This isn’t a maker profile. I’m not chasing print counts or documenting a process for its own sake. I want a record of the work as it happens: the sketch that didn’t survive contact with the printer, the material that turned out wrong, the small decision that made an object worth keeping instead of another thing cluttering a shelf.

The test every piece has to pass #

Before anything gets a number and a name, I ask it three questions:

• Is it beautiful enough to leave out?
• Is it useful enough that I’d actually reach for it?
• Is there one small, unexpected thing about it — a delight, not just a function?

If I can’t answer yes to all three, it stays a sketch.

Why write this down at all #

Mostly because the interesting part of an object isn’t the print — it’s what led to it. What it was standing in for before it existed, what didn’t work on the first try, how it ended up living in a home instead of a drawer. That’s worth a record, even if the audience is mostly future-me.

What’s next #

I’ve got a few directions taking shape already — trays, holders, a couple of modular pieces I’m still not happy with. I’ll write about them as they’re finished, not before. This is a couple of hours a week, for years rather than weeks, so don’t expect a flood.

Consider this the first entry. More soon, at the pace this actually happens.