At first, it was just a matter of size.
But it quickly became a philosophical question. What does small work mean ?

Is it about scale, or the persistence of things often overlooked ?

Small work demands attention. It asks us to lean in, to notice the details, to recognize the power in precision. It is in the love and dedication, the delicate touch that shapes something enduring.
In the hands of a craftsman, the strongest tools create the finest effect. In nature, the smallest shifts cause the greatest change.

Small work does not mean insignificant. It means intentional.
Essential.

Every thing hammers

These tools once belonged to John Corcoran, also known as “Everything Johnny”. He could fix just about everything. He could build or create almost anything.

Each dent, each worn handle carries the memory of his touch, the weight of his craft. A hammer is small in the grand scheme of things, yet in the right hands, it shapes the world.

Tools study

As I draw Everything Johnny’s jewelry tools, it feels like he’s right here with me. Each tool holds echoes of our conversations — my doubts, my fears, always met with his steady reply: “Do it anyway.” With every line I trace, layer after layer, I find myself slipping into the rhythm of creation. There’s a quiet sense of order, control, and tidiness that unfolds, as if the tools themselves are guiding me.

Silver only

Patrick once shared a story that stuck with me — the kind that turns an ordinary object into a legend.

Every year, Everything Johnny would travel, and one day while he was away, Patrick borrowed one of his hammers for some heavy woodwork, not realizing the gravity of his choice. The hammer was returned quietly, but when John came back, he knew. The tool was no longer perfect — no longer fit for the delicate art of silversmithing. Without a word, Johnny polished the hammer until it was perfect again and carefully marked it with two simple words: “Silver Only.”

That story lingers in every line of this piece. It’s a reminder that tools aren’t just tools. They hold stories, carry lessons, and sometimes, they tell great ones.

Every thing forks

Two forks, born from repurposed, imperfect cans, now hold stories of transformation and ingenuity.
In John’s hands, even the most ordinary objects found new purpose. These pieces aren’t just utensils — they’re a testament to playfulness, audacity, and the art of seeing beyond what is. Each fold and cut reflects his skill, his vision, and his belief that everything holds potential — if you’re bold enough to try.