This was written for an upcoming issue of Nova Scotia Craft News, and will be published next month. The issue's theme was "haptic knowledge - the importance in craft of the sense of touch".

THE WEIGHT OF A STONE

Let's talk etymology.

Haptic. Derived from the Greek word haptein. Meaning to touch, tactile, or having to do with the sense of touch.

How important is this concept in this age of multimedia internet and international techno-retailing?

Very important.

What's the first thing you do when a loved one returns from a long journey? You hold them. Shake their hand. Squeeze their shoulder. Give them a gentle noogie.

What do you do when you see something in a store you'd like to own? You pick it up. Whether it's a sweater, a necklace, or a comic book. If you're serious in your desire, you need to touch it.

It's like a test drive. Possession is nine tenths of ownership. I can pick it up. Touch it. Feel it. It's part of my existence.

I'm a jeweller. To me, a necklace's value has as much to do with the feel and heft of it as it has to do with the rarity and colour of each component. Hematite is cool and grounding. It has weight and density unlike any other stone. You can feel the lustre of red tiger's eye, the graininess of mahogany obsidian, the crisp pragmatic lines of a well cut garnet.

We're supposed to wear these things, remember? That means touch.

Okay, so what if you're not a jeweller? What then?

There's nothing that compares to the heft of a handbound book. There's a big difference between store bought and hand stitched clothing. A well rendered oil painting will go for more than most photographs and prints, simply because of the texture of the frame and the gorgeously visible brushstrokes.

In a universe of images, sound and light; there is something strangely comforting in the weight of a single stone. Remember the human skin is about 20 square feet in area and weighs between 7 and 10 pounds, (although I have an Uncle Harry, inordinantly fond of dark beer and poutine, whose entire skinnage would probably dress out a four masted schooner and weigh in close to a good long tonne), making it the largest sensory organ. It covers your eyeballs, your nose, your mouth and your ears. In the world of perception the skin is king.

When I string a necklace it's a real question as to whether or not I should graduate the beads or run a straight string of like sized beads. I'll think about economy, and how it will look, but the priority on my checklist is how it will feel when you pick it up. When you wear it. When you touch it.

Think about all the times in you're life that you've worried about anything. How comforting it is just to fiddle with something. A rosary, a carved netsuke rabbit, a worry stone. Even a well tied knot will do it. Our lives are empty without the sense of touch.

Show a child an object and their first impulse is to reach out and touch it. It's what separates us from any other creature. The opposable thumb. The ability to grab onto something and just hang on.

The memory of our skin is as powerful a mnemonic as a thousand carefully annotated scrapbooks.

As a retailer I know that if I can get someone to try on a necklace, I'm halfway home to seeling that piece. I've found a weakness, put the touch on them, so to speak. It's a comfort to me to think that the digital market will never totally replace the flea market stall. We are hunters and gatherers, and we need to catch hold of our lives.

We make all our magic with our hands. Each time I handle a necklace it is polished and repolished by my aura, my emotions, my skin and oil. All of us, we craftsmen and designers, we are replicating the gentle patina of humanity. Sharing our experience and our vision in a tangible manner. You can pick this magic up and feel it in any handmade object. That sets our handcrafted products a couple of light years beyond any wall to wall factory churned dross in any big box retailer.