The last stitch closes the making while opening years of ordinary use.

Finishing something made by hand is two events at once. One kind of attention ends, the concentrated kind that watched every seam, and another begins, the long unremarkable use where the object is worn, washed, sat on, forgotten. Makers often feel a small flatness at that moment, mistaking the shift for an ending when it is really a handover from the workshop to daily life.

If you are close to finishing anything, let the last step have its own minute rather than rushing past it. Then use the thing. An object kept pristine has been stopped halfway through what it was for.