The Break Through

Who is Hand by Craft?

Let me take you back before the baskets, the herbs, the altar jars, the Raven and the Goat.
Before the titles and the roles. Before there was we, there was I.
This project began with a rupture and a remembering.

In 2011, at 21, I cracked open.
The world I was told would fulfill me degrees, jobs, the performative path felt soulless. I was burning out in slow motion. One night, it came in a dream loud, whole, and undeniable. I woke up and began to sketch, not for a client or a paycheck, but for survival. For truth. For breath.

That’s when Hand by Craft was born.
Not as a brand. As a lifeline.
As a map back to myself.

Where It Started

I grew up between cultures Colombia and North America.
Design school gave me tools. Retail gave me structure. But the real wisdom came from the land, the old ways, the bones beneath my feet. This project was always meant to be a bridge: between worlds, between people, between the sacred and the everyday.

Hand by Craft began as a way to honor Indigenous makers and ancestral skills, and to bring fair, reciprocal trade into a world that often extracts without care. It still does that.

But the work deepened. I deepened.
The process took me through initiations, some sacred, some brutal. I went through grief, detachment, raw shadow, ancestral reckoning. And through all of it, I kept building.

Where It’s Going

What was once a single thread has now become a tapestry.
Hand by Craft has evolved into a living container a house for offerings of all kinds: ancestral goods, botanical medicine, handmade tools, teachings, and small-batch creations from my own practice.

It also holds space for Raven and Goat, a branch of personal work I’ve built in collaboration. That space is special, but it lives within the structure I’ve spent over a decade shaping.

And this blog?
This is my place to speak freely.
To archive the truth.
To reflect, record, teach, and alchemize.

This work began before I was a homemaker.
Before I had a home base.
Before I knew what kind of world I’d be building in.

But time has tempered me.
The silence has sculpted me.
And I no longer seek belonging, I am the ground I stand on.

Crowned by time.
Chiseled by truth.

Signed,

Cronos Heir.