The time I struggle the most in the craft is during the low tide between big, months-long projects. And I suspect I’m not alone.
We’re wrapping up the “Build a Chair from Bulls%$t” book to send it to the printer, but there’s little work for me. I’m waiting on drawings, approving technical stuff and picking out a suitable shade of brown cloth for the cover that evokes bull ca-ca.
“Does this say ‘bull’ to you or ‘baby with butthole trouble?’”
Ahead of me are two monster projects: building the tool chest for the revised edition of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” and embarking on a chair design that has bedeviled me since April 2019.
For the chest, I have the white pine I need. It’s beautiful stuff (Pinus strobus) I bought from Alexander Brothers. They picked out some wide, clear boards (thanks guys), so I’m looking forward to dovetailing the material.
And the chair design before me feels like when you have a winning lottery ticket, but you can’t tell anyone about it until you’ve cashed it and the money is in the bank. I haven’t even shown the chair drawings to Lucy, Megan or Kale. But I have the chair seat drawn out full-size and there is nothing to stop me from closing the laptop and cutting the seat out this afternoon.
Except I feel ankle deep in wet sand. The ocean water is retreating to gather for a huge wave. And I’m not ready to swim.
For me, one good way to get unstuck is to build a “smalls.” These little projects are what craft-show woodworkers use as bait for new customers. Smalls can be spoons, little cutting boards or mirrors. But they are quickly made objects for your booth that can attract people who aren’t ready (yet) for a highboy, but they love handmade things.
So if you have a bunch of smalls, the new customer gets something they can afford. The woodworker gets gas money to get home. And maybe someday, a bigger sale.
I’m not a craft-show woodworker – I don’t have the outgoing personality for it. But I am always on the lookout for smalls. When I spot a good one, I take a photo or a screenshot and stash it in an image folder. I have 93 pieces in there right now.
This morning, I picked one out. I didn’t have dimensions of the original antique, so I decided it would be 8-3/4" tall, and I figured out all the dimensions from that decision. I used scrap walnut left over from Jerome Bias’ class last week. The students had made some sample finish boards. I planed those boards down and built the little wall box you see here.
There’s no joinery. Just glue and cut nails. I cut the decorative bits with a coping saw and cleaned them up with a rasp. I chopped out the hang hole with a chisel. Total elapsed time: two hours (that includes designing, drawing, building and finishing). Total reduction in blood pressure: 10 points, easy.
For fun, I drew up plans for the wall box, including a full-size pattern for the back piece. Plus a cutting list. (Not that anyone really should need much help for something this simple.) Paid subscribers can download all this information below the paywall.
Tomorrow is going to be a monster of a day. We’ll receive at least eight pallets of books (perhaps 16), Megan’s new workbench arrives and we have to move an old workbench to the new storefront, which still needs a ton of work before our grand opening on March 9.
So I decided that this little walnut box will hold all my anxiety about the next two projects and two weeks. I’m going to hang the box as high as possible, and out of my reach.
In addition to the plans, I’ve also put a few photos of some of my other favorite smalls I hope to build soon.
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