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Layers and pathways

Writer's picture: Christopher FatherleyChristopher Fatherley


April 2021


Self is the totality of one’s character at any given point. All thoughts, actions, and experiences are coming together in an alchemy of being. I think of this during moments of reflection when I consider the paths chosen and people met along the way. Do we create our destiny, or are we subject to some divine order unfolding with each breath? I believe it is both operating in unison. One’s upbringing can point us in a direction but we may still choose an altogether unique calling to answer our natural gifts and personal circumstances. Some know their purpose early on, while others, like me, take a more circuitous path. This bearing can present particular challenges as a high-level generalist compared to deep subject matter expertise. On the other hand, a broader range of topical skills attests to an adaptable, curious, and resilient nature. The task here is to synthesize different experiences into a uniform approach strengthened by its diversity.


In this resolve, I share a selection of personal memories contributing to the layers of my personhood.


Farming: I worked on a Vermont dairy farm one summer. The idyllic romance quickly wore off after the first week of waking each day at 4:00 in the morning to milk the cows (Sunday to Saturday). This was followed by a day of labor that included mending fences, bailing hay, calf birthing, barn painting, and sanitizing milk equipment. It all ended about 8:00 in the evening once the herd was put out to pasture after the second milking. I usually fell asleep with a book on my chest following a page or two of reading. The family patriarch was the seventh generation to work land that had been in the family since the 1760s. In classic old school Vermonter style, he was a salty farmer of little words. Our communication amounted to my responding to the schedule of the day. I eventually earned some modicum of trust by tending the herd of about 40 Holstein “milkers” on my own from pasture to barn and back. I was a bit of an art school free spirit at the time and will never know what impression I left, if any. The experience taught me fortitude, grit, and responsibility. My sojourn ended with a gallon of the family’s Vermont grade A dark amber maple syrup as a reward, and for that, I was grateful.


Music: I always keep an interest in music. I had brief stints playing drums and bass, but it was closer to ambitious DIY flailing than actual song structure. However, record collecting was an entirely bigger mission. I knew all the best record spots in Manhattan and would spend weekend afternoons with a backpack on my quest for the next inspiration; this often meant obscure 12” dance music from particular record labels and production engineers. I also had a few big scores when the CD became the next big thing and vinyl fell out of favor. There was a moment in the 1990s when New Yorkers would leave a box or two on the street curb for scavengers such as myself to pick through. It was a golden opportunity that did not last long as the same folks soon realized the value of their discards. After amassing a reasonable wall of vinyl records organized by genre, I followed my passion into DJ’ing. I was sometimes paid, but it was mostly for fun. My finest hour was when I passed by an East Village record store searching for a two-box set release of David Mancuso’s The Loft collection. David Mancuso (1944 – 2016) is the revered innovator of communal dance party culture. Beginning in 1970, he hosted invite-only gatherings at his Prince Street loft in Manhattan’s SoHo neighborhood frequented by only the creative pioneers of the time. The sound system was custom built by an electronics whizz and set a commanding precedent for others to follow. When I entered the store, it was to my great surprise that this person of underground DJ renown was behind the counter chatting with friends. I was beside myself but, of course, tried my best to play it cool. I walked out of the store with my prize signed with David’s illegible scribble – as the saying goes, only in New York. I now put this random knowledge to something of use while listening to music with my children, sharing geeky “fun facts” about studio production, release dates, and cultural relevance. My son, in particular, humors me with the knowledge share as he explores his own creative tween swagger.


Engraving: I was again privileged to be in the right place at the right time (recall my previous comment about divine order) when Tiffany & Co. introduced a hand engraving apprenticeship program. The intent was to train the next generation of artisans consistent with a legacy of the finest handcrafted luxury goods. So here I was, working for a small couture jeweler as a messenger. My job was to greet clients at the jeweler’s downtown studio, do some light benchwork, and make daily trips by subway to New York’s midtown jewelry district. I knew nothing about hand engraving other than the “Everyone is an MVP” machine engraving on my childhood soccer trophy. It was through this jeweler that I came to understand engraving as a highly skilled craft. I was mesmerized by the lettering, design flourishes, and heraldic crests. In the evenings, I went to work teaching myself the basics. I had a few books and a contact that could offer some tips, like manually preparing a point tool graver on a sharpening stone. It was through a friend of a friend that I learned about the Tiffany & Co. apprenticeship program. I had the unique opportunity to join the department and learn the craft with master engravers. The “shop” was in the Fifth Avenue flagship store as it had traditionally been until moving to a new location. After nearly six years, certain life events made me rethink engraving as a career path but it was an extraordinary experience that I still hold dear.


This month’s writing is not meant as a personal showcase but to hopefully prompt readers to consider how their past has formed the precious moment of now. It is a healthy exercise to embrace memories – be they ordinary or triumphant. Yes, life has its share of trials, but my wish is your memories provide some solace to weather difficulties and to empower the you of today.


For the Kingdom,


Christopher


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