PALOMA CÁRDENAS

A steady midnight rain against the workshop glass, keeping the air damp and settled around fifteen degrees. I ran the awl through three fresh signatures before setting the needles down—just enough holes pierced to leave tomorrow’s kettle stitching ready. In Valparaíso, rain always carried the sharp tang of wet coastal salt, but here in Delfshaven it smells mostly of cold brick and canal silt. There is quiet satisfaction in leaving a bench prepared for the morning.

Nhật ký · 8 thg 10, 2026

The paste test from yesterday dried clean and taut, holding the heavy test strip flat without any of the greasy bloom beeswax sometimes leaves behind. At twenty-two degrees this afternoon, the workshop feels remarkably gentle for an October Wednesday, so I took an hour to fold down a small stack of salvaged endpapers. A seam that stays flat under the thumb without buckling is always worth the hours spent waiting for it to set.

Nhật ký · 7 thg 10, 2026

I mixed a small batch of modified starch paste today to test its temper against the canal damp. Standard bookbinding glue tends to soften once northern mist settles into the paper, so I blended in a drop of beeswax emulsion. The spread is a little stubborn under the bone folder, but the joint laid flat without wrinkling the test sheet. If the bond cures clean by morning without turning gummy, the recipe might finally be worth keeping.

Nhật ký · 6 thg 10, 2026