The remarkable birth of a beeswax candle.

It takes 75 dips to create a taper candle of the thickness I desire. I stand on my balcony, surrounded by trees, with my hand hovering above the beeswax vat. I dip just to the edge of the previous coat, wax slowly thickening around the cotton braid. In the air is a gentle breeze, and when I lift the taper out of its bath, wax ripples with the wind as it dries.

Dip after dip, my candle begins to tell the story of the wind, which has become inscribed on its very surface.

I don’t for one second think to bring the candle vat inside to ensure a smoother coat. I instead develop an instant fondness for these ripples; The candle has begun to remind me of the ocean surface and the forces found within physics. How can I not marvel at what unfolds after each layer applied?

These candles have been made unique to this exact moment in space, capturing the autograph of what it is like to stand here in the breezy calm, under the gum trees and the palms, surrounded by the scents and noises on the balcony of my apartment. I don’t think for one second to shelter them in order to achieve a smoother surface.

Before hand-dipping, I poured candles into aluminium moulds, waited hours for them to dry, and wrestled endlessly in order to get them out. After losing match after match, I switched silicone moulds and worked out a way to create batches of identical candles that I mostly sold wholesale.

But I don’t want to make batches of identical candles for wholesale anymore. I want to watch the wind write her name on the one I’m dipping right now. I want the candle in my hand — and the moment it captures — to be enough. And when I make one, I want to be there for its process. I want to witness the story that it shares with me.

The candles and I are going through a similar journey.

I find myself shedding my own containers and bearing witness to the beautiful imperfections that lie within my own making. I’m absorbing the marks of experience that have curled their way around me, reminiscing at the ways they have danced with me to music I once couldn’t hear. And I’m enjoying the outcome.

As I begin to centre myself around my creative experience, (which is simply existing authentically), I find that joy and ease are becoming the predominant sensations in my life.

And to think, I once chased them ambitiously to all corners of the earth.