So, after I’d spent months lost in card-making, I hit a point where I wanted to try something… bigger. I didn’t know what, exactly - just that my hands were itching to create something with more weight, more texture.
Then my dad’s birthday came around, and I was stuck. I had no idea what to get him - nothing felt right. I ended up in a craft shop, staring at stencils, thinking maybe I could make him a painted box. And there, right next to the stencils, was a pyrography pen. I’d never even heard of such a thing - burning designs into wood? It seemed wild.
But I thought, “Why not?” I bought the pen, grabbed a plain wooden box, and took it home. I held my breath, turned it on, and made my first mark. It was wobbly, it was uneven, and I think I burned myself twice - but when I stepped back and saw that design taking shape on the box for my dad, I felt this rush. This was it. This was the next step.
I took that box to my craft group, and the praise I got… it just pushed me to keep going. I practiced and practiced, and before I knew it, I was making portraits - people, animals, any shape or pattern I could think of. I learned all the techniques I needed to bring those images to life on wood.
And now, eight years later? I teach pyrography. Me - the person who didn’t even know what a pyrography pen was when I saw it in that shop. It still blows my mind sometimes.