When Technology Holds Its Breath

Today feels like a day of small but significant anxiety — my mobile phone is going in for repair. You’d think it’s a simple thing: hand it over, let the technician do their work, and get it back good as new. But as anyone who has had to do this knows, it’s never that straightforward.

Before anything can happen, there’s the process of backing up every file, every app, every photo, every tiny bit of data that makes my mobile mine. Then comes the big moment — pressing that button to return it to factory settings. Wiping it clean. A blank slate. And that’s the part that feels a little scary.

It’s a strange feeling, really — to see something that has become such an extension of my daily life stripped of all its personality. My mobile holds my diary, my workshop bookings, photos of my work in progress, my students’ projects, my notes, my creative ideas jotted down at 2 a.m., and even those little reminders that keep me from missing a delivery or a meeting.

So, yes — there’s a touch of trepidation here.
What if the files don’t all back up?
What if something goes missing?
What if the data won’t transfer back again?
What if, after all this, they can’t even repair the phone?

We rely so heavily on these tiny devices now — especially those of us who work for ourselves. For a sole trader, a mobile isn’t just a phone. It’s a studio in your pocket. It’s how we stay connected with customers, answer enquiries, post to social media, manage orders, and even capture moments of creativity to share with others. Without it, it’s a little like being unplugged from the world.

It’s made me reflect on how dependent we’ve become — not in a negative way, but as a marker of how intertwined technology has become with creative life. I used to write notes by hand in sketchbooks and on scraps of paper, but now those notes are digital — synced, shared, and ready to send at a tap. My camera roll is a gallery of experiments, colour trials, half-stitched ideas, and textures waiting to be turned into art.

So, as my phone heads into its little operation today, I’m taking it as a reminder to pause. To step back for a few hours from constant notifications, and maybe even enjoy a slower rhythm while it’s away.

When I get it back, hopefully in full working order, I’ll reinstall everything and rebuild my little digital world. But perhaps I’ll also remember that behind all that technology, the most important tool of all — in business and in creativity — is still me.

And at Eau Brink Studio, that’s exactly what it’s all about — finding the balance between the digital and the handmade, the fast pace and the slow stitch, the constant hum of technology and the quiet joy of making something with your own hands. Even when the tech is down, the creativity carries on.