All life is interconnected -- across species, around the world, and over time.

When I have a piece of leather in my hands, I am very cognizant of the connections between my human existence, the animal that once wore the skin I hold, and the plants that provided us both with clean air and nourishment.

Opportunities to perceive the interconnectedness of life are, of course, nearly as abundant as the connections themselves. But for me, working with and using leather offers a tangible way to hold onto those connections. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that leather allows part of a life to live on -- to escape, for a while, the forces of decomposition and, instead, to endure.

When a new hide shows up at my doorstep, I unroll it and imagine. Before my mind bends to what it could become, I imagine what it was.

I know that, for some, the idea of raising and killing animals to fulfill human needs is hard to sit with. And I respect ethical abstention to animal agriculture -- particularly the industrial variety. But I also believe that animal life and plant life are not readily distinguishable, and I know that we rely on other forms of life to sustain our own. I genuinely believe that, if we are to make and take a life, then we should do so with honor and intention. While I am not yet able to source hides through fully traceable supply chains, I view my work with hides that are often a by-product of meat production as a way of valorizing the animals.

I always aim to use as much of each hide as possible. Minimizing waste is more than just a good business strategy. For me, it is about making art from life. That’s why my designs showcase the beauty of raw edges, fat wrinkles, brands, and scars. I celebrate the marks of a life and a death.

This approach is atypical. Often high-end designers do something I call, “hiding the hide.” They seek out the most unblemished hides and work only with the choicest parts of those premium skins to create a pristine end-product that could have been -- and may have been -- factory produced. But my idea of premium is a little different…

At Rivers & Roads, the “premium” comes from the craftsmanship I put into each piece, the durability that my customers can count on, and the distinctiveness of my end products.

Handcrafting is careful, deliberate work at every stage. Through countless hours of practice, my eyes and fingers have developed an easy, familiar flow. I love little more than standing in front of my Wings & Waves stitching pony and working a needle to Kings of Leon or Johnny Cash.

I’ll admit, when I first started selling my wares, it was a little hard to hand off my handiwork. But then I focused on the fact that Rivers & Roads goods are made to be used and aren’t finished until they are worn.

Rivers & Roads leather goods, which are designed to be hard-wearing and long-lasting, only get better with age. As you pull your wallet in-and-out of your pocket, it will patina in a way that reflects your particular patterns of use. As you haul your essentials in a tote, the leather will bend and pull up, revealing dynamic tones. As you fill up each notebook in your refillable journal, the cover will soften from the touch of your hands and the power of your pen.

The scuffs, scratches, and wear-lines on your piece are unique. These markings don’t detract, they display your journey.

The more you use your leather goods, the more lived-in they look, the more you’ll treasure them. Each piece is designed to accompany you on the varied journeys of life, be they international adventures, backcountry excursions, or daily errands. Because these pieces are almost always with you, they come to hold more than just your things -- they also hold your memories.

As long as you care for your leather goods, they will love you back for a long time. One day, they might even become a treasured heirloom in the hands of a loved one.

Leather lives on...