Make Do

The long, rectangular pieces of granite likely came from the foundation of the old barn. You can tell they were hewn by hand; there are no saw marks, only the telltale signs of feathers and wedges. There is a lot of granite here on this old farm. These old stones were probably quarried right here on the property during the 1800s.

The fieldstone, with its beautiful camouflage of lichen and moss and its odd shapes that fit snugly together when stacked, is all coming from the woods behind the barn. It was likely set aside during the farming era of this property, or maybe later, when access roads were built during its logging days.

I don’t know many details about the history of this property, but there is something deeply satisfying about using materials that come directly from the site. It feels connected to the past, even if that connection is a little hazy.

There’s an enjoyable creative challenge in working with what’s available. Here is a pile of stones, make something happen. It can be frustrating, too. On most projects, if you need more stone, you go to the stone yard, pick what you want from a tidy display, and have it loaded onto your truck while you wait inside and joke with the sales reps. But that frustration is part of the process. Working through it, making do with what you have, is part of what makes the work so enjoyable.

Here, if we need a stone, we go out into the woods and find it. It’s a different process, one that’s closer to the way the barn’s foundation was built a couple hundred years ago. It’s more engaging this way. Constraints often sharpen creativity. Instead of making something from “anything,” you have to make something from “this.”