I started out woodworking like many do – working behind a desk in a long hours job and seeing other people do more than slink into a couch for off hours and just sit in a daze until forced to go back to work the next day, and sometimes that would be later the same day if the prior day went late enough. Not saying I didn’t put through plenty of physical output at work, but it was stacks of paper and files. Someone at work thought I was particularly frustrated – which was probably true, but problem solvers typically don’t have a pitchy salesperson like fake outlook on things.
That started me out woodworking and the first thing I learned to do with hand tools was sharpen from a David Charlesworth DVD. I followed it, it worked, and spent another couple of years wondering how much sharper things could be because all forum input was “there’s no way I had actually sharpened a plane iron properly…it takes years or longer to master”. Well, it doesn’t, and that’s another discussion for another day – how do people get stuck for decades trying to learn something that should be routine and mostly mastered in weeks or months.
What I didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t want to hear is that there is satisfaction in woodworking that doesn’t sound like “if you get a good set of plans and have the right tips, you’re building things better than the pros do”. That message was out there, but it’s bullshit. Which pros. Are you comparing your bookshelf-with-metal-adjustable-pins to some guy who is assembling concrete forms?
It took me about 6 or 7 years to learn that first, you need to have something you want to build well so badly that you’ll figure it out, and second, you don’t have to sweat failing. And not in a fat kid finishing the mile way – “oh, there’s no such thing as a failure”. Well, there may be. Maybe a given individual isn’t meant to do fine art, or carvings, or run half marathons, but most of us will find something we are good at or that we enjoy, or if lucky, both at the same time. And when we do, it’s worth experimenting, doing, and forgetting about someone telling you that a good maker will be able to make anything. A good maker may make more than one thing, but they will become familiar with a smaller number of things, and those things will be better.
And the Repetition and Realistic Incremental Improvement
….that incremental improvement, and learning how to improve faster, and adding on more universal skills like developing feel and training eyes: That’s the key to actually making something better than you thought you could, which will bring you far more than envisioning celebrating that you never made a mistake. You’ll own the knowledge. There is some self teaching and self learning in this that maybe hard to grasp if you’re super conscientious and not very creative. And some need to block out the “expert opinion” of people who either know a better way than what you’re doing, or who are at least dead set on telling you that they are.
Here’s an example from my current kind of build-up. I want to make chisels from rod or solid stock, which I discussed in the prior blog post. I don’t need to, but I want to.

The chisel on the right is the third chisel I hammered out. There is a *lot* of grinding to do on that. The one on the left is the fourth, and the one in the center is the last from yesterday. They look a little different because I’m trying things. you can see that I ran the tang out with the guillotine on the one in the middle, and you can’t tell, but I’ll come back later and consolidate that. It stings my eyes a little to look at it because what I don’t want is discontinuous length. This chisel was made out of only about 2″ of rod and the tip to tang length is 8.5″ now, so the grain is probably elongated somewhat, and for a chisel, I think that’s a good thing.
But there’s a little nugget of improvement on it. After hammering out the right side chisel on this picture, I started to realize that drawing the material out makes it easier to work with rather than hammering it flat. It’s counterintuitive, because drawing out and flattening along the way sounds like more work, but it isn’t. The length of chisel shown in front of the bolster is far more like what it will be when it’s finished. The bolster is rough looking and there’s a lot to grind back, but that can be solved another day.
At this point, the first two chisels were arm aching stuff, the third at the right was still chunky, and the fourth on the left started to clue me in about drawing out material. To not just learn this but feel it at the same time is far different than hearing it in a class and doing what you’re told.
This incremental improvement is very pleasant, and my thoughts about whether or not this was physically reasonable to do after the first couple of chisels are gone – of course it’s reasonable to do in perhaps several per day. And that will be plenty. I can’t physically put in a box what this is and ship it to someone, and it isn’t woo, either. It’s not superficial “lifestyle woodworking” to sell a class, and I think it’s not a beginner friendly thing, so I’ve got no rah-rah idea of what you should just go do (“go make chisels!”). I know that I want to do every single step of them in the shop and I want them to be better than anything I can find. Maybe that’s not possible, but I’m shooting for it.
And I’m shooting for anything else I can learn about moving metal to perhaps be useful elsewhere, and getting closer and closer to a finished chisel off of the anvil where it makes sense. Because these results are nowhere close to that.
And I’m thankful to be going to the shop contemplating, feeling, sometimes ending in some pain, but not limited by someone else’s ideal or limitations or what doesn’t make sense in 2023 or whatever else. It’s a lifetime thing, not dependent on the next class or the next article, and absolutely devoid of any of those internal dialogues about “how much is this worth, is it really worth my time?”. The last bit is one of the dumbest things I’ve encountered on a regular basis – that what you’re doing for leisure doesn’t have enough value and your time is worth too much to do it even if you like it.







