Rough Wood

If you have been a regular reader (thank you!), you may have noticed that I’ve not been posting much—for a while now. In the interest of explanation, and as a genuine observation on the place that woodworking has in my life, I’ve decided to explain why. Maybe it will be of use to you; maybe it will be of use to me. But we’re here to talk and share and think about woodworking, and we so rarely discuss woodworking outside the context of its being a hobby (except in the case of such things as charity and fellow-woodworkers-in-need). That said, I’ve debated a post on this subject for almost a year… So here we go!

I spent a large part of the last year in the midst of a divorce. Sometimes life gets in the way of living, and we have to step back and consider where we spend our time and energy, our love and attention, and our money. My enthusiasm for wood and woodworking (and hand tools, let’s be honest) cannot be disparaged. My time and energy, love and attention, and money, apparently, can. I had Big Plans for many projects. I finally had a usable workbench. Full speed ahead. Then, suddenly, it was all so unimportant in the grand scheme.

Upon later reflection, I realized that I had spent an inordinate amount of time making stuff for the ex. Cutting boards, kitchen stuff, planters and trinkets, aids for the aging cats—that sort of thing. The plans for bigger stuff were related to our collective needs. In the face of the split, it was hard to think about spending so much time toiling away on things that would have been for both of us. So I planned some projects for me, like some funky speaker stands that are also floor lamps, which I will post about once I get a little further on them.

Shortly afterwards, I discovered rock climbing, as a way to clear my head and get some exercise, and it became a more effective (and more social) way for me to spend my spare time. Productivity was less important than getting my bearings, so up I went. I’m happy to say that it has become one of my favorite things, and I wish I had started when I was younger.

But I digress, as I often do. So what am I on about here?

It is a rare opportunity—when one finds oneself suddenly standing at the edge of a giant crack in the ground, and can stare into everything that has been known and unknown, all at once. I found that I have a passion for wood—the mechanics of it, the tools used to work it, joinery, discussions about technique, and the occasional near-miss accident. Yes, even tool wars. I also found that, at least at this stage in my life, I don’t run to woodworking as an escape as I once did. It is not an island oasis for me to strand myself upon in times of stress and difficulty; it is a place I go when I need something—when I want to enjoy the process of designing and making that thing myself. It is not a place I will go every night and/or weekend just because it’s there. It is a place I will go to enrich myself, to learn and to grow, whenever it is right.

That sounds like evolution to me. It sounds like a maturation of my concept of woodworking as it relates to my life. Oddly, it coincides with my long aspirations to get back into being an actual artist. As I stare at 50 square feet of veneer on the floor in my office, neatly arranged by shade and texture, wood is now a part of that goal too.

Of course, I’ll post about that some day…

Next up, however, a walnut trestle table and matching benches. Stay tuned, and thanks!

I worked the Harry Potter angle for Halloween. Yeah, that’s me.

People have told me that I look like him for years, and I had an occasion to change up my costume this year. I bought the robe, a tie and some glasses. I considered buying the wand. After shopping around I saw that most of them are really cheapo plastic things, the others expensive and overkill for something that would only see the light of day once a year.

Now, I’m no Harry Potter geek, but steps had to be taken. I mean really, a woodworker bringing more plastic into the world, plastic that’s molded and shaped to look like wood. That’s just crazy.

So I decided to make one. During a work crunch. With a $15 set of cheap carving tools that I had originally bought to carve pumpkins.

Questionable judgment aside, it turned out reasonably well for my first carving project. I used some thick avocado dowel that I had bought for something else. I sat on the floor in my office and started hacking away during renders. Unfortunately I didn’t get any shots of the process. I only had a little time to stop and tinker, and just dove in. I referenced photos of props to get the size and general shape of the thing. The original design involved 2 different woods, so there was some delineation to imply.

I learned a lot about carving in those hours of chopping at this rod of avocado. Most importantly, that I was afraid of the grain. I have spent so much energy and effort avoiding tear-out in unsupported grain while working on furniture and other construction-type projects that I spent several hours trying to not carve. I nibbled little hints of twists and and tweaks in the supposedly knotty old wood that made up the handle. I was satisfied enough at the time, but looking at it the next day, I realized that I had made a wooden version of the cheapo plastic wands…

So I got cocky the next day, as it seemed at the time, and just started going at it. I dug deeper and deeper into the wood. I felt reckless and irresponsible; I was crossing the streams.

But it looked a lot better.

After a few more hours I had a much better approximation of the 2 woods that were used in the original wand design. As I erased the tiny scribbles that I had sheepishly scratched into the wood before, I began to feel happier with the results. It was not a work of art by any stretch, but at least it was deliberate.

Now, here’s what I got really wrong. This was also my first time using shellac, and as an experiment I counted on the shellac for the coloration. I knew better, but was in a hurry and powered through it. So I had to use a lot of shellac. The result? Two different colors, neither of which is quite right, and a lot of shine. I will knock it down some day, and might even refinish it with some stain. Also, I have to give The Woodshop Widget another shout, because I was able to mix very small amounts of shellac for this small project. Good times.

As for the potential refinish, I feel like I’m a few steps ahead, having gone through the process in the first place, so I’ll see how much energy I have when Halloween rolls around next year and I dust it off.

Life has really gotten in the way of woodworking in the last month, but will give way to much more woodworking in the coming months. I suddenly find myself with some temporary “shop” space (a small room), no car, and some energy/creativity/angst/brain juice to burn. As you may have noticed by now, no obstacle is too great for me when I am determined.

Today marked my first trip to my hardwood dealer to get stock for small projects that will help to keep me occupied as I gear up to finally tackle my tool cabinet project. The good news is that I will also be networked in my “shop” and will be streaming my progress, if anyone’s interested. I’ll set up a link here in case anyone wants to pop in.

Back to the quickie, an example of determination follows: If you suddenly find yourself without a car, without a real shop, without a pep squad, and with a deep need to make some stuff, what do you do? Do you give up and sit around and watch TV? Do you complain that it’s too much trouble? Do you *assume* that it’s too much trouble? Or do you cowboy up and make it happen? I generally choose to cowboy up.

Here I am getting ready to hop on my bike to go get some walnut, complete with a ryoba sticking out of my bike courier bag. I call this “urban samurai woodworker.”

I managed to get 10′ of rough-cut walnut back home on my bike:

Incidentally, the walnut is for some small speaker stands, which may or may not double as floor lamps. Maybe there’s another post in that, but I’m still tinkering.

The point is: soldier on, friends. Life is unpredictable. Find your center, find your way, and don’t let anyone or anything get in your way.

Side note: I got a chance to use The Woodshop Widget for the first time at the hardwood dealer where I was originally inspired to build it, and it was pretty awesome…

You come home from a long day at work. You go into your shop and close the door. Maybe you don your hearing protection (you do that, right?) and power up a machine and make some dust. Maybe you grab your favorite chisel and chip away at something until it’s just So, or tweak your favorite hand plane. You’re there by yourself, and are perhaps the most relaxed and peaceful you’ve been in days. You lose track of time, and 5 hours later it’s time to get ready for bed. Turns out, it was a good day anyway.

There’s something inherently asocial about this—going off to your private corner and doing something just for yourself. Sure, you might have the kids in the shop on occasion, or hang out with a neighbor, but it seems that most woodworkers consider “shop time” to be their private time, and space.

It might be said that most similar creative endeavors are introverted by nature. Picture the classic portrayal of an artist enthralled in the act of creation. I suspect that fewer woodworkers are fueling political coups, drinking themselves to death and alienating family, or abusing relatives and deliberately disfiguring themselves, but you get the idea. One simply wants to be alone sometimes, to make stuff and to escape.

That’s not to say that we’re asocial people. On the contrary, you may be involved in forums, or clubs. You may travel for trade shows. You may hang out in chat rooms to soak up some woodworking vibes. But the act itself is generally done in solitude, and enthusiastically discussed later.

This distance might partially explain the need for many of us to hook up with like-minded people on the web, to rub elbows and chat at the web water cooler. But I’m inclined to think that the act of woodworking, at least not in a professional capacity, is asocial. It’s a very personal journey, even when undertaken while having access to such a great online and in-person community.

Or maybe it’s just me.