| THE EPISTOLARIAN |

I am back in Paris for the first time in more than twenty-five years, the longest stretch I will likely ever have between visits. It feels both familiar and entirely new.

At Palace of Versailles, everything is larger than I remember. Rooms open into other rooms, each one extending further than expected.

In one of them, the bed of Marie Antoinette sits behind a low railing, a balustrade that marks the edge of approach.

At first, it seemed decorative, or perhaps something added later to keep visitors back. My friend Angela told me it dates to her time.

It allows you to come close, but no closer. Court life unfolded in public, even in her most private rooms.

She lived within that arrangement, always visible, never entirely reachable.

A letter begins in a similar space. It is written here and read there. By the time it arrives, the moment has already passed, and yet something of it remains.

You are seen, but not approached.

Travel creates that condition again.

It places a small space between you and your life, enough to see it clearly, as if you were standing just beyond the railing.

From there, something can finally be said.

Debut: The Antoinette Bouquet

After visiting the V&A exhibition on Marie Antoinette this past year, I went down another rabbit hole.

Looking more closely at the portraits by Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, I kept noticing the same detail, her hand holding a small bouquet, repeated across multiple paintings.

The dress changes, but the gesture does not. The hand, and the flowers it holds, carry the meaning across each version, a delicate, composed image of the queen. It is also a practical choice. Once a pose worked, it could be reused and adapted within the studio, allowing new portraits to be built from a successful foundation.

Following that repetition, I created a seal from this image, isolating just the hand and bouquet.

Marie Antoinette was thirty-seven when she died, two years younger than I am now.

It is a strange thing to realize.

In a way, like Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, I keep her image moving forward, carrying the same gesture into another form. I have made eleven to begin.

New York Salon 2027

Enrollment is now open for the New York retreat, May 13–15, 2027, centered on the theme of COLOR. This three-day immersion moves through intuition, material, and refinement across letter writing, wax seals, and ceremonial inks, with shared meals and all materials included.

Pre-registration is limited. Once filled, remaining places will move to standard enrollment.

The Second Generation Helix Edition: 3 Available

While I'm in France, I have three Helix edition Étuis available. Each Helix Étui is finished, signed, and includes the three primary pennies along with a letter from me.

Three Graces: Back in Stock

The Three Graces Seal is back in stock, and there is also the version with the matching stationery as well.

Aglaia (Brightness), Euphrosyne (Joyfulness), and Thalia (Bloom), feel central to my work because they describe the rhythm I return to again and again: brightness as the moment something catches my attention, joyfulness as the experience of creating and sharing it, and bloom as what lingers and deepens over time; like the figures in The Three Graces, who exist in a continuous exchange rather than alone, I see my letters and seals moving through this same cycle.

In Case You Missed It: The Hastings Mermaid Seal

Drawn to her for years, I set out to create a seal that felt classical and enduring, a figure suspended between worlds. The mermaid, after all, belongs to both land and sea. She moves through visible life and unseen depths with equal fluency, attuned to emotion, intuition, and the currents beneath the surface. In some unspoken way, she feels familiar. As though we, too, carry a trace of her within us.

The first edition of the Hastings Mermaid has now been fully discontinued, having sold out earlier this year. This second edition follows the original heraldic orientation, her tail turned in the opposite direction, her comb lowered rather than raised. There is greater refinement throughout, most notably in the fin and in her expression, lending her a sense of movement, presence, and life.

Juste au-delà de la balustrade,

Kathryn