| THE EPISTOLARIAN |

Lately, I’ve loved the revival of hospitality, especially in creative and lifestyle spaces. Everywhere I turn, I see curated tablescapes, themed dinner parties, and homes arranged like museum vignettes. While I treasure beauty and have built a life around its exaltation, I worry that society confuses aesthetic precision with the deeper purpose of hospitality. True hospitality isn’t curated. It’s lived. It’s felt.

There are homes so polished you hesitate to sit down. Towels no one dares to use. Tablescapes so full of decorations that eye contact becomes difficult. However unintentional, the message is clear: this space is for looking, not living.

And yet beauty need not be sacrificed. The polish can stay, if it’s anchored in human feeling. The human experience is the compass! Even the most artful table can work, so long as it allows room for people to see one another.

To me, hospitality is more than letting someone through the door. It’s an invitation into your inner life, offered without pretense. It says, “This is my world. Come in.”

This is where letter writing enters.

For me, letter writing is a form of hospitality. Not a metaphorical one, but an architectural one. When you write a letter, you create a space inside yourself and invite someone else to enter it. The paper becomes a room. “Dear friend” becomes a doorway. We can transmit information in faster ways of course, but that’s not the point. First and foremost, a letter is an act of hosting. You are welcoming someone into your thoughts.

To write with beauty, without performance. To leave room for reflection rather than display. That is the invitation.

Modern hospitality often forgets this. It prizes polish over presence. But in the slow ceremony of a letter, we reclaim it. We allow ourselves to be generous. To be open. To create something lasting or fleeting, not for admiration, but for connection.

Letter Writing Prompt: The Room I Welcome You Into

Think of someone you care for (a friend, a relative, someone you miss or someone you’re just beginning to know). In this letter, offer them hospitality. Not as a host arranging something in the physical world, but as a person opening a quiet room within yourself.

Describe the space you imagine inviting them into. Is it real or imagined? Is there tea? A stack of letters? A window? What is said or unsaid between you? What do you hope they feel when they enter?

Let your letter be a place. Write without needing to impress. Write to make space.

You might begin:
“If I could host you in the quietest corner of my world…”
or
“This letter is a room I made for you…”

Let beauty in. Let connection and comfort lead.

Seal of the Week: Open to You 

This is one of my favorite tiny world seals, which I have been painting this week without figurines. A woman scatters grain for her geese. Subtle and understated, the image evokes everyday generosity, hospitality offered without spectacle. Don't we all want to visit her little country cottage?

Red Brocade by Naomi Shihab Nye

The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days
before asking who he is,
where he’s come from,
where he’s headed.
That way, he’ll have strength
enough to answer.
Or, by then you’ll be
such good friends
you don’t care.

Let’s go back to that.
Rice? Pine nuts?
Here, take the red brocade pillow.
My child will serve water
to your horse.

No, I was not busy when you came!
I was not preparing to be busy.
That’s the armor everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose
in the world.

I refuse to be claimed.
Your plate is waiting.
We will snip fresh mint
into your tea.

The Newest Étui Penny (Almost Gone)

Only about ten of these remain.

Color of the Week: Kacey

Named for my cousin Kacey, this shade of green strikes a perfect balance between playfulness and elegance. It calls to mind sea glass on the shore and sunlit pastures in early spring. Bright without being loud, it pairs beautifully with Pontresina, a crisp white that lets it shine.

Seattle Salon - Spaces filling

Spaces are filling for the Hastings Seattle Salon, a two-day immersive workshop held in my home and limited for just four guests at a time. It's intentionally spacious and slow so we can get to know each other over the art of wax seals with my historic collection.

Upcoming Dates:
• August 22–23 (2 spots remaning)
• October 2–3 (2 spots remaining)

Each day includes guided creative sessions, a luxurious tea service, and time to reflect, restore, and reconnect. We close with a beautiful dinner on the second evening to celebrate the journey we've shared.

Guests arrange their own travel and lodging (Hotel Ballard or nearby Airbnbs are ideal).

Whether you’re returning to your art or craving stillness, the salon offers a space to meet your creativity, and kindred spirits, face to face.

Back in Stock

This week, a few favorite seals have returned to the shop. They are selling out quickly; so I recommend ordering yours today if you'd like them for the cozy season ahead.

With Love,

Kathryn