Warm welcome.

To arrive in a wood shop, expertly imperfect. Designed by a craftsman to tailor to their needs. What do you see? A bench, long, heavy, beaten with years of work. Tools of the trade big and small. Art plastered on the walls, an early chair in the corner. Coffee mugs on a hook. Wet stones, chisels, saws of all kinds.

This gentle ecosystem fascinates me. It reminds me of walks taken alone at my grandparents house back in the early 90’s when I was a kid. I remember exploring the shop of my grandfather and feeling at once totally lost (none of the tools besides the bench and saws were intuitive enough for me to understand by observing) and also totally at home. This place was an extension of the man who bought me Christmas gifts, who tucked me in. Grandpa Jim’s old dog stuck it’s tongue up my nose. It was an extension of the man who raised my father from the time he was 11 when my dad’s parents divorced.

A shop is a sacred place. Hollowed grounds for makers young and old. In my shop I use Jim’s old tools. They were passed on to my father when Jim died and my father passed on to me when I showed enough interest to have all the hand planes dismantled and sharpened; oiled and cleaned.

My own shop is tight. The size of a walk in closet cloistered beside my carport subject to humidity and the weather. It has a window that slides open on hot days and gets wonderful morning light.

I have 3 kids of my own. None of them show any interest in my shop. If they come to visit it’s to tell me they are hungry or to tell me to stop working and that I must come play. I don’t mind. These things are sacred. Nothing can be forced. Like the process of making the piece of furniture, sometimes it just comes together other times it goes in the fire pit. (I promise not to burn my children.)

I’ve struggled in recent months with an idea of belonging. Do I deserve to be here, in this crafting world? Do I deserve to occupy a space that could otherwise be filled by a more talented, more creative or visionary maker?

Yes. I belong here and so do you. If the shop captures your spirit, let it guide you. If designs and joinery occupy your thoughts as you lay in bed or as you sit at your desk clocking hours in the office, you belong.

Welcome to the shop. I am glad you are here.