Arts & Crafts Has Wifi
So, I recently swapped New York’s 24/7 convenience and chaos for a charming little coastal town in Rhode Island. Why? Family stuff. Since landing in my new seaside life, I’ve been adapting—sort of like a wild artist being slowly domesticated.
These days, I spend most of my time around lovely people who don’t know about chiaroscuro or contour, but can tell you the best way to prune a rose bush or make soup from scratch.
As an art school graduate (hello, RISD), this is... a shift. True confession: I spent four years in Providence and never once entered the Providence Art Club. The word on the campus grapevine was that it was a haven for wealthy retirees who dabble in painting while sipping chardonnay and wearing linen.
So imagine my surprise when I found myself, years later, in that very club, perched on one of the black lacquered chairs with the symbol of a club carved from its back that whispers “history”. And suddenly, a thought hit me: this place is a time capsule. A survival bunker for the endangered species known as the Traditional Artist.
The Fleur-de-Lys studios stands out and commands attention on Thomas street. Its dark wood details are Straight out of an Arts and Crafts handbook. William Morris would’ve wept with joy—and then probably started a wallpaper business out of it.
I’m a surface designer by trade. Thanks to print-on-demand sites, I no longer need to live in Manhattan or meticulously hand-paint every little paisley swirl. Photoshop handles it in seconds, and I can work in my pajama pants. Progress!
But the internet has created a tidal wave of new designers. All you need is a YouTube tutorial and a Canva account, and boom! You're a designer now. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here muttering about the “good ol’ days” like I’m 108.
I do worry that we’re losing the magic of traditional skills. It’s so much easier to mix colors with a mouse than with actual paints—and there’s no clean-up, no brushes to wash, no mysterious splatters that end up on the dog. But is that convenience a sign we’re losing our humanity? Or is it that handmade work, by contrast, is now even more valuable? Like, “look at this imperfect, brushstroke-filled, paint-splattered masterpiece! A human did that!”
Maybe we’re not doomed after all. Maybe the digital world is actually highlighting what’s truly special about the analog one. Arts and Crafts isn’t dead—it just got Wi-Fi.