The object made slowly can hold the particular mood of many separate evenings.

Something worked on over months absorbs the conditions it was made in. A row knitted on a bad evening and a row knitted on a calm one look the same to a stranger, but the whole is still a record of a hundred separate hours, each with its own weather. They are not just shaped objects but compressed time, most of it unremarkable at the moment it was spent.

If you have something long and slow in progress, resist rushing to the finish. And when you give such a thing away, mention how long it took, since the hours are a large part of what you are handing over.