A Kraft Box, a Craft Fair, and the Quiet Power of Showing Up

— Notes from my first market and the community that carried me through it

Some businesses scale up.
Mine settled in — with a kraft box, a small folding table, and the support of the kindest people I know.

This past weekend, I had the joy (and nerves) of attending my very first craft fair: the TOTAL Market in Montréal. It felt like a big moment for Writuals. A shift from “dreamed” to “shared.” A chance to put my work in front of real, curious people. To answer questions, to connect, to simply be there.

It wasn’t smooth. The STM was on strike, which made logistics tricky and the turnout lower than usual. But I showed up — and so did so many others.

And in the end, that’s what stayed with me.
Not the weather or the traffic, but the warmth.

It took a whole village (and a Communauto)

I don’t drive, and I don’t have a car.
So when transit shut down for the weekend, my little booth only made it to the market because of the incredible people around me.

My husband rented a Communauto and stood beside me through it all — helping with setup, takedown, countless little logistics, and cheering me on the whole time. Just his beautiful, supportive self, as always.

My friend Charles offered a ride too — and brought his trademark calm presence and humour along for the journey.

My mother and my parents-in-law cared for Rosalie with love and patience, giving us the precious gift of time — hours and hours of it — so I could be fully present at the market without worry. They offered me rides and asked plenty of questions, and dreamed a little bit with me throughout the weekend.

This is how Writuals exists:
with effort, care, and a lot of hands and hearts behind the scenes.

A slower fair — but full of meaning

With fewer people able to make it to the event, there was more space to breathe.
To talk.
To really connect.

I had time to tell people what Writuals is about — how we make everything locally and sustainably, how we avoid adhesives, how the seed paper grows local wildflowers, how the gift wrap is hand-printed, one sheet at a time...

People were curious. Some surprised. Some lit up as soon as they understood what they were looking at.
Several bought planners and journals as gifts — for their mothers, sisters, themselves.

And every time someone nodded along while I spoke — every “oh wow” or “this is so thoughtful” — felt like a gentle yes to everything I’ve been building.

My favourite part: the other vendors

Truly — one of the most nourishing things about the TOTAL Market was getting to meet and support fellow makers. Despite a slower weekend, there was so much warmth exchanged between booths.
And yes — I did some local shopping of my own.

Sarah Samares creates stunning block prints inspired by nature that feel both bold and meditative. I brought home a gorgeous piece that’s now part of my office — it feels like a quiet reminder of strength.

Transformed Pages makes beautiful items out of salvaged and recycled materials (yay sustainability!). I picked up wax crayons for my daughter and goddaughter — they’re sweet, clever, and perfectly thoughtful.

Crochats Crochets makes handmade plushies that are whimsical and soft in every possible way. I couldn’t resist bringing two home — again, for the littles — and maybe a little bit for me too.

@babych_m surprised me with a live drawing of me at my booth — gifted with such quiet generosity. It’s now pinned on my wall as a reminder of that exact moment: me, doing the thing.

We spoke about the beauty and exhaustion of handcrafting, about pricing fairly, about doing what we love while parenting, side-jobbing, and navigating the rest of life. The mutual support was steady and sincere.
It made the weekend feel less like “selling” — and more like belonging.

Why shopping local still matters (maybe more than ever)

I know “shop local” can sound like a slogan.
But at events like this, it becomes something real.

A local sale means someone gets to keep creating.
It supports printers, packaging suppliers, papeteries.
It lets me keep choosing compostable mailers and seed paper and keeping things unlaminated, even if they scuff or tear more easily.
It lets me stay small, slow, and intentional — without having to compromise.

More than that — it lets me feel connected.

Not just to customers, but to people who share these values:
slowness, care, ritual, and sustainability.

People who want to give gifts that feel meaningful.
People who ask questions.
People who see the beauty in handmade things and the effort behind them.

One small sale is never small

If you’ve ever walked past a market stall and thought, “Does it matter if I buy something?”
Yes.
It matters.

It ripples. It builds something.
It creates a little world where things are made with hands and hearts and hope.

So to everyone who stopped by the Writuals booth — whether you bought something, asked a question, or just smiled at the seed paper labels — thank you.

And to every maker who showed up that weekend with their wares and their courage:
I see you. I’m proud to stand beside you. I hope we cross paths again soon.

With kraft boxes, new beautiful locally-made goods, a lot of love, and a deep sense of gratitude,

Sarah B.
Founder, Atelier scriptural Writuals
(mezzanine-run, Montréal-rooted, craft-fair-softened in the best possible way)