Hey Up,
I'm Zach Beauvais. I help organisations tell their stories.
At work, I help leaders at Cornell University understand their purposes, plan for their messages, and help varied teams turn ideas into content for our students, faculty, collaborators, and our huge community.
I also take photos, make coffee pretty well, and turn green wood into spoons, bowls and cups.
Lately, I've been writing about the pandemic
I was 15 when they started school-shooter drills.
A few days ago, I wrote this piece on Facebook in response to a Business Insider article about the riots at Capitol Hill on 6th
Just type: layers like duvets filled with lead
Just_type. No editing. Full-on whatever the hell comes out of the fingers goes on the screen. (I’ve not done this in a while). Sorry. Sorry
Good people are tired
Last week, I posted a Facebook announcement to a group of woodworkers that I administer. The post reiterated our inclusive stance and made it explicit
I start every one of my projects with a tree. If I’m lucky, I get to fell it, but sometimes, I collect up a fresh log. I split green logs with a froe, axe, and wedges.
Once the shape is roughed out, I move on to refining with straight blades and hook knives (which let me hollow out bowls).
I don’t use sandpaper or other abrasives, so everything is tool-finished.
I've written about lots of things.
At least once, those bags contained pretty much everything I owned.
A friend of mine posted a photo: his bags, badly lit by soul-sucking strip lights of airports, train stations, and the night bus. It looks
Just type: How I miss Ludlow
How I miss Ludlow. A brace of pheasants in the feather for less than a fiver – hanging from one of Ludlow’s five local butchers. Each
I thought I’d be wearing a robe or something.
“So, this just swings over your jacket, and just hook this bit under your… where’s your tie?” The spindly man from Ede and Ravenscroft held
Cally Road’s king and I
Thing is, despite the many people, none gave me a second look. And, I’d never looked more guilty of breaking and entering in my life.
A spoon carver’s progress
There it is on my Facebook wall. 3 years ago today: I’m squirming at a photo of this spoon I carved from a bit of