Our custom branded stamp came in the mail today. I've had visions in my head of stamping bags with my own logo for years, and now I finally have something tangible that says, "You're doing it. There's no turning back now. You're in it and you have to make this work. This real thing that you can hold in your hands will be rendered obsolete if you give up."
It's been a long-time coming. For about 15 years I've been working in coffee for other people. The first decade or so was just soaking up all the information I could, but throughout this epoch I've also gone through a hundred different versions of what I would do differently if I had creative control over my own venture. I've seen innovations that inspired me, and I've seen practices that made me deeply cringe. I've learned from every one of them.
More than anything, I want what I do to be cohesive and accessible to all. I want to make an impact, I want to hold space for warmth, I want to not feel guilty when I think about the ecological or socioeconomic impact of my daily practices. I want things to be functionally minimalist, and I also want it to look good. I want everything that we create to be simple and delicious.
I want to reach people that previously found specialty coffee to be intimidating, and its disciples insufferable. An educated coffee consumer that is willing to spend their money where it counts is one of my top priorities. I want to make professional coffee skills more accessible to the neurodivergent, a demographic to which I belong. So much material used in educating coffee professionals is unnecessarily ambiguous and makes it difficult for people on the spectrum, who are highly sensitive to sensory perception and are a huge asset to the coffee industry.
I want something to call my own, but it is so, so much more than that.
