My art teacher Soontorn certainly looked the part. A deliberately cool Thai artiste, his thick grey-shot hair fell to his shoulder blades.

Jeans, a bright orange tshirt, several stone necklaces, rings of jade, an ornate carved leather belt and bum bag of his own creation. We rode his low slung deep roaring black motorcyle to the leather shop.
I examined the shop's rolls of different leather - rough, light coloured thin hide-like leather; shiny perfect smooth artifical-like red or blue; deepest no-milk-chocolate with faintly worn cow skin texture. My original conception of the bag had been a creamy, almost yellowy leather, like the plush interior of a vintage car. But, laying my dark green word processor against a yellowy leather sheet, I didn't think the colours went that well together. The thick no-milk-chocolate piece was easily the more beautiful in the shop, looking unmistakably real. I laid my word processor against it - dark green on darkest brown - it looked good. And the rich, unmistakable smell... Yeah, this was the piece, even though this was (unsurprisingly) the shop's most expensive sheet (I had to buy at least half the sheet, which seemed vastly excessive for my planned design - but in the end we used most of it).

Back in ArtLab (www.nova-collection.com), I the only student that day, so we worked in the downstairs coffee lounge area. We laid the gorgeous thick leather sheet out on a table and began planning the design on thin card. Doing everything (including hammering out the holes for the stitching) on paper first was crucial, given how expensive the raw material was. Soontorn looked at me to see if I was bored - apparently some students couldn't see the point of working with paper when they had asked for "leather working"... I had no delusions of my abilities, however, and had no problem doing this in the right number of steps. We cut out the outline for each bit of leather on the card: the two sides of the bag, the linking middle two inch wide "U" that we would stitch into both sides, the pocket and pocket flap. We hammered out on the card the holes for the stitching - the importance of doing it on paper first became obvious, as the holes had to match as perfectly as possible.

With the design worked out, we then cut the leather around our card outline, producing the different sections, and then began hammering out the holes. I struck over and over with Soontorn's mallet, trying to get the right combination of force and placement that would knock out a clean hole in one strike.

With the holes done, then came the largest section of the work - the hand stitching. Soontorn offered me two options - the quick, simple stitch or the slowest, stronger and more attractive double stitch. There seemed little value in learning the weaker technique, so I began the enormous project of creating a bag from these separate brown pages. We cut threads from what remained of the original leather sheet, width the same as the holes, length twice as long as the intended edge we were going to stitch. Dipped the ends of the chunky "threads" into some unexplained liquid, to solidify then and to ease pushing them through holes - then we began. Laying the linking U strip and one side of the bag together, a thread was pulled through the first hole of both pieces, until half lay above the hole and half lay under it. Then the underneath half was brought upwards through the second hole and pulled tight. The above half was then brought over the pulled out end and pushed through the same hole the other end had just come through, thus switching the two ends over - the new lower end would then go forward to hole number three and be pulled through to become the next "upper end". The upper end would always have to cross the pulled through lower end to the right - always to the right. This meant continuously being alert and, if any mistakes were spotted, unravelling to the place of error and starting again. I stitched all afternoon, then took the bag home and continued stitching into the evening. The nice women running my guesthouse watched me stitch until their bedtime, and then alone by the reception area table, with the strip light above for illumination and the electric fan keeping me cool, I stitched on. The stitching became increasingly hard as the bag took shape, as it became more cumbersome to turn back and forth and harder to get at the inner side of the stitching. I finished for the night - it was only ten thirty, yet it felt vastly later. The bag's stitching was a bit more than half done.

Day two - I came back, pretty sure I had made no mistakes, but was still massively relieved when Soontorn checked my work and was happy with it. The prospect of a long ago made error was too horrible to contemplate. Some students apparently got sick of stitching, wondering why they were paying to sit and do this repetitive work. I didn't find it tedious - and I was conscious that I was building a skill for myself, and therefore that getting adept at the core of the craft was not something that could be sidestepped cleverly. Leather is an amazing material to work with: flexible, forgiving, yet immensely strong. I quickly gained Soontorn's faith in the material - we knew this was a good piece of leather, so could wrench the bag and the stitching strips with all our strength. Apparently I was Soontorn's first male student in a long time - but it felt an activity that was quite manly in places, what with all the hammering and the strength needed to pull through the stitching and yank it tight. I couldn't help but ponder that there was something both feminine and masculine about crafting this material - actually I'll sound too much like Dr J Gray if I explain any more of this, so stopping that line of thought here.

The stitching was done, the bag's design completed. We added a shoulder strap by glueing together two wide strips of the leather, then stitched then to the sides of the bag through a circle of seven holes - the double stitching was strong enough on its own to not require glue or rivets. There wasn't time for Soontorn to explain hard leather carving to me, but it was clearly a skill he loved and a more artistic side of his craft than the actual contruction aspect which I had been seeing up till now. He draw a simple design (well, simple in his eyes) on a piece of hard leather and soaked it to soften it before carving. He etched out the pattern, pushing down the background areas with different pointy metal tools, then we painted the outside of the circle to be the same colour as the bag and the design itself to be a light, natural looking clay brown. A final, easy piece of stitching to join the carved piece to the bag's flap and the leather carrying case for my word processor was completed.

I think it looks pretty amazing, and, although I had lots and lots of help from my teacher, feel great pride that I have designed something like this. It looks far more like a Native American saddle bag than I was originally expecting - this is in part because Soontorn mixes a lot of Native American techniques with his Thai styles. I got the impression in fact that much of his business nowadays comes from foreigners placing orders for "Indian" designs - leather shirts, boots etc. The second reason for the end look was a much broader lesson. I think to make this kind of things, one needs a clear and detailed mental idea of what one wants to design, going into the depths of what materials to use, what stylistic touches etc. Departing from this plan, or not having one to begin with, inevitably changes the end look. I realise now I didn't have that full image at the beginning, and so surrendered sovereignty over how the bag would end up.

I don't mind at all though. It was my first attempt - so best to have used the strongest materials and Soontorn's best area of expertise. I think it looks great.

The great advantage of drawing the design on card first is that I have the blueprint for the bag still with me, and so could presumably make it again, once I bought the tools and some more material. I suspect I would need either a book on leatherworking in front of me, or a few more lessons to feel confident - but it is quite possible that I can now make items of saleable quality as a result of this two day class. This is something that almost beggars belief, it is such a sea-change in my self image.
I've often thought I could maybe make money by say finding crafts or art and selling them on, but never that I might be able to make something with my hands that someone else might actually want to buy. A new image about myself came rising up, the possibility of being someone who made things, a possibility I had never considered before. Whether or not I in the end ever make anything like this again, that thought, that slightly wider assessment of my choices in life, that was the most valuable thing I take from the class.

Soontorn said it would take maybe five days or so of classes to teach someone the harder skill of leather carving - and presumably another several days to study some other designs with him (bags, belts etc). A Danish couple apparently spent three weeks learning from him a while back, and now have set up their own shop.

Look, I'm not saying anything, but, I am thinking that if by early November I feel ready to leave India, and have some money left, I just might come back to Chiang Mai for two weeks and study some more (I plan to get to Australia about November 25th). Who can say - want to join me?

Daniel, 1st September 2004, Bangkok

PS ArtLab's courses cost 1100 baht a day (about 15 pounds). The sheet of leather I bought cost about 1200 baht - so all in, this was not at all a cheap course. That said, it was immensely rewarding, possibly taught me a skill that I can use during the rest of my life, and helps support Thai artists.

PPS My new problem: I've built a carrying case to protect my word processor, but as the case itself is so good looking, I feel reluctant to just stuff it in my backpack. I almost now need another bag to keep this bag protected...