Brush and broom making
Rosa Harradine
Please share a bit about yourself and your background.
I grew up in the countryside in Norfolk, in the east of England. After finishing school, I went to university to study music. At the time, I saw it as a way of being creative in a different way, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do. I just knew I loved music, so I thought, "Why not pursue that?"
After three years of studying, I realized I still didn’t know what I wanted to do. That’s probably not uncommon when you choose a path at 18 without much life experience. Looking back, I might have made a different choice, but that’s part of the journey, isn’t it? Once I finished my degree, I found myself living in London, doing various office jobs. That’s when I discovered spoon carving, which became my first real connection to craft and working with my hands. I was living in a shared flat at the time, and I’d sit in my bedroom with a little chopping board, an axe, and some wood, carving spoons on the floor. Thinking back to those early days, it’s funny to imagine, but that’s how my journey into craft began.
What first inspired you to pursue broom & brush making as your chosen craft?
I started exploring different crafts, like willow weaving, basketry, and even a bit of bowl turning on a traditional foot-powered pole lathe. Around that time, I began thinking about how I could turn one of these crafts into a career. I was learning new skills, enjoying working with my hands, and making things, but I hadn’t settled on a specific path. Then, I came across brush making online. I decided to give it a try, so I bought some materials, taught myself through books and the internet, and just had a go. At the time, I was sharing everything I made on Instagram. This was probably eight or nine years ago when I started spoon carving. By the time I began brush making in 2021, I had been documenting my work online for years.
The difference with brush making was that people started asking, “Can I buy one of those?” That hadn’t really happened with the other crafts I’d tried. Brush making was quite unusual in the UK—there weren’t many people doing it—so it naturally stood out. That interest spurred me on to make more, and eventually, I realized I could turn it into a business. It all unfolded quite organically, and now here I am, fully immersed in this craft.
How do you think the places, people, and traditions where you grew up are now manifesting in your craft?
Craft wasn’t really a part of my life growing up. My mom was a teacher, and my dad worked for British Telecom, so I didn’t have much exposure to making things by hand. However, I was always encouraged to be creative. For me, that creativity expressed itself through music—I learned a lot of instruments as a child, and my family supported whatever I was passionate about.
That mindset—that I could do anything if I put my mind to it—has stayed with me. It’s shaped how I approach my craft today. I have a personal motto: “How hard can it be?” That belief has helped me tackle new challenges and take on projects that might feel like a leap at first. I think growing up in an environment that encouraged exploration and creativity gave me the confidence to pursue this path.
Could you walk us through your creative process, from gathering materials to the final touches? Do you have a favourite step in the making process?
It depends on what I’m making, but for my big brooms, the process often starts in the woods. I have a small piece of woodland where I harvest broom handles. These handles tend to be wiggly and full of character. I also source straighter handles from a local coppice. Once I’ve gathered the wood, I season and dry it for six to twelve months before using it. When the wood is ready, I prepare the handles and start working on the broomcorn. I measure and sort each piece by length and quality, grouping them so the brooms look neat and balanced. I usually do this in the morning, with a cup of coffee, music playing, and the quiet of the workshop around me. It’s a meditative part of the process that I really enjoy.
After soaking the broomcorn to make it pliable, I bind it onto the handles in three layers, let it dry for a few days, then stitch it into shape. Finally, I trim the broom for a clean edge and oil the handle to bring out its natural beauty. The process is long and varied, which I love—it keeps my mind and body engaged. The physical nature of the work, like pulling and binding, is tiring but satisfying. There’s something deeply rewarding about feeling that tiredness at the end of a day spent creating.
How does working with your hands, and the tactile nature of your craft, influence your sense of well-being and fulfilment? In what ways do you feel it supports your connection to yourself and to the natural world?
Working with my hands is essential to me. It gives me time and space to be with my thoughts, something that feels rare in today’s world. When I’m doing repetitive tasks, like sorting materials, my hands work while my mind has room to wander and reflect. On the other hand, tasks that require full concentration, like binding brooms, put me in a flow state where I’m completely present. Both experiences are equally valuable.
Connecting with the natural world is another key part of my craft. Harvesting broom handles from the woods or finding driftwood on the beach allows me to see beauty and potential in the raw materials around me. It’s a special feeling to turn something from nature into a functional, beautiful object. Being self-employed also gives me the freedom to work with the rhythms of nature. If it’s a sunny day, I can take a break and enjoy it. That connection to the outdoors and the flexibility to embrace it is something I deeply cherish.
We are aware that you’re planning to grow your own broomcorn. How do you feel about reducing even more the environmental impact of your production and fostering an even greater sense of self-sufficiency?
Broomcorn used to be widely grown in Europe, even in the UK, but over time, production moved to places like Mexico and Serbia, where labor is cheaper. Harvesting broomcorn is a labor-intensive process that can’t be mechanized, which likely contributed to its decline in the UK.
Right now, I source my broomcorn from Mexico, and while it travels by boat—which isn’t the worst environmental impact—it’s not ideal. Growing my own would allow me to have full control over the process, reduce the environmental footprint, and achieve greater self-sufficiency. I have a small piece of land, but it’s a bit far from where I live now, which makes tending a crop challenging. My plan is to move closer to the land so I can fully commit to growing, harvesting, and processing my own broomcorn. It’s a big undertaking, but it aligns perfectly with my values.
Everyday objects often carry a quiet significance in our lives. What are your reflections on the value of handmade objects, especially tools like brushes and brooms, and their impact on how we interact with the world around us?
Handmade objects hold a special kind of meaning because they connect us to the person who made them. I remember when I first started buying handmade spoons, I loved that I knew the name of each maker. Even now, I can look at my collection and recall who crafted each one.
This connection is something we’ve largely lost in modern times. In the past, every village had its own craftspeople, and their work was an integral part of daily life. By making and sharing handmade tools today, I hope to bring a bit of that connection back—reminding people of the care, thought, and skill that go into the objects we use every day.
Where do you think the biggest potential lies for preserving important local crafts in the contemporary context?
I think there’s a resurgence in interest around crafts, and people are becoming more engaged with them again. In the UK, organizations like the Crafts Council and Heritage Crafts are doing great work to promote and preserve crafts, from engaging with the media to sharing opportunities for makers. For me as a craftsperson, it’s all about storytelling and education. There’s potential both online and in person to connect with people and help them understand the value of handcrafted work. For example, I send out a monthly newsletter, which gives me a chance to share more detailed stories about my process—how something is made, the steps involved, and the thought behind it. Many people don’t know the effort that goes into crafting something by hand, and once they do, it helps them appreciate its true value.
Additionally, we have some fantastic high-quality craft fairs in the UK now, which provide an opportunity to engage directly with people. It’s great to be able to talk about the work, explain how things are made, and sometimes even demonstrate the process. When people see the effort firsthand, it deepens their understanding and connection to the craft. So, I think it’s about sharing, educating, and spreading the word as much as possible—both digitally and face-to-face.
What upcoming projects are you excited about right now?
2025 is shaping up to be a really exciting year! I have quite a few workshops planned, which I’m looking forward to because teaching and sharing the craft is so rewarding. It’s a lovely way to step out of the solitude of my workshop and connect with people. I’ve got some broom-making workshops on the calendar, which I’m thrilled about. I’m also working on a new project involving items that complement the brooms and brushes, incorporating woodworking and bright colors—a signature element of my work. I can’t reveal too much yet, but I think it’s going to be really fun and vibrant.
Where and how can people engage more with your work?
Thank you for asking! The best place to find me is my website: rosaharradine.com. You can sign up for my monthly newsletter there, where I share updates about my shop, workshops, exhibitions, and behind-the-scenes details about my process. It’s a great way to connect in a more personal, long-form way. I’m also on Instagram: @rosaharradine. It’s such a wonderful platform for sharing visual stories and connecting with people who are genuinely interested in my work.
Images by Heather Birnie heatherbirnie.com
