Events, too banal to detail here, conspired to keep me from sleeping last night. So, I’ve spent most of the day either staring into the middle distance or trying to finish a box with shellac.
In finishing the box today I realise how much I have to learn, and practice. I stopped myself from letting drips ruin it. Yeah, this box is already consigned to a dusty life in the workshop, but it’s still worth trying to make it as well as I can.
For whatever reason, I keep thinking of the Japanese artisan who makes a bowl every day and then destroys it, hundreds of times just to internalise the process. Not sure if that’s real or just orientalist hokum, but the idea of doing something so much that it becomes your nature is fascinating.
While it may be tedium to the journeyman, it’s something that hobbyists miss out on. It takes a hellofalot of self discipline to make the same thing repeatedly just to hone a skill. But, who doesn’t get a bit…what’s the word, jealous?…when you watch a master craftsperson free hand dovetails.
I’m on track to make several iterations of the same box. Which is step one to making other boxes. Maybe I’ll get bored, maybe my wife will find me sitting atop a mountain of tiny boxes giggling to myself. Not that she’d find that out of place.
Dunno, just the crap running through my head today as I feel like cold shit warmed up.