A collection of hard working knives owned by our friends Mark and Wendy, both of whom are outstanding cooks. These are the same people who own these brushes. The variation in the size and shape of the blades and handles is, of course, what makes these so remarkable. The fact that they are all razor sharp, and feel good to hold, makes them sublime.

These erasers are all hard as rocks, so of no use to me or anyone. But I love them all the same. Especially the round Mallat wheel erasers. And, if you are of a certain age, you’ll remember with fondness the ones with the little brushes at the ends.

I can’t help it, I am an absolute and total sap when it comes to a nice brush. This beauty is a masonry brush. It measures in at almost a foot from tip to tail. And 6 1/2 inches from side to side. If you can’t help yourself…go here.

I am in the process of packing and moving most of my art supplies to our place upstate and into my new studio. Woot!!! (Hopefully this explains the infrequent postings.) I have a teeny tiny office space here in Brooklyn, but now I finally have the chance to spread out and work in a different way, and on multiple projects at once. The plan is to keep things confined to computer and sketch pad here in the city. I am beyond excited to be digging into the full-scale messiness of the design process. Most of all…I am over the moon about not having to clean up at the end of the day. In the midst of all this sorting and boxing up, I came across my paintbrush roll. A bamboo mat with strips of elastic woven through it in order to keep the brushes secured. It seems to be an item from another life.

I was on the lookout for a couple of basting brushes to replace my very ratty greasy ones. I thought about getting silicone brushes, but they don’t really soak up the liquids the way I want. And something about silicone and food coming together has never really sat that well with me. The other day, while wandering around Dean & Deluca trying to pass 15 minutes before a meeting, I came upon these lovely specimens. Something about the combination of the bristles, the cerulean blue plastic and the wooden handles make me quite happy. I also have a thing for brushes. More to come.

Mark Keoppen is a builder in upstate NY. He and his wife Wendy Townsend, a writer, live in a restored barn that Mark spent 10 years building with his own hands. Their home gives meaning to the idea of a structure being more than just the sum of its four walls. This place is literally transcendent. Their aesthetic is both minimal and lush — there is nothing extraneous in evidence. It seems to me that everything they bring into their lives has some purpose or deep significance. And the place itself is firmly rooted in its physical surroundings. That said, when I walked in the other day, I glanced to my left and saw these giant paintbrushes leaning up against a ledge in the entryway. My heart leaped at the sight of them. These aren’t just for decoration. Mark will, in all likelihood, use them. But in the meantime, they will continue to grace our presence.