Since the acquistion of the new Festool DOMINO, a handheld power tool that cuts mortise as quickly and easily as cutting slots for biscuits with a biscuit cutter, I've not done much turning, none at all in the last two or three weeks. But today, in the home stretch on a totally crazy project that has required cutting close to 500 mortises, I finally O.D.ed on them. I needed a break.
So I returned to the lathe, where results are more immediate and the process is seldom repetative, nor mind numbing. I centered up a chunk of oak, part of a tree that fell, and tried to kill a friend in her car - but missed. I would make Barbara something pretty out of a part of the thing that tried to kill her. (O.K. - it didn't actively try to kill her, it was just high winds that cause it to be uprooted and it happened to fall - only on part of her car, and she had been out of the car for a few minutes and well out of harms way.)
The chunk I was working with started out way out of round and very unbalanced, with knots of cut off branches scattered down its length. The initial turning from rough to round was going to be a hand banger. To reduce that I decided to sharpen and hone my roughing gouge and my 3/4" skew, in part as a way to avoid starting what was going to be - well let's just say - less than a lot of fun - bark flying, knots clunking - the usual.
The extra time spent getting the two tools really really sharp
- in an effort to ease myself back into what might be unfamiliar territory - did more than merely allowing me to procrastinate. When I finally got around to applying the gouge to the spinning wood for some reason I let go. For those seeing flying tools and mayhem - I meant "let go" figuratively, not literally. Rather than grab the handle in a death grip, left hand wrapped around the other end, pressing down with all my might om the toolrest, my "might" not all that considerable to begin with, body tense, jaw locked - I was relaxed, no white knuckle gripping, but rather just enough to be able to manipulate the tool and guide it along the tool rest.
The bark seemed as if it could see that very sharp cutting edge approaching and lept out of the way - no it was more like stepping off the wood, effortlessly. When I sensed the edge was going I didn't do my normal - "I'll just press harder and turn for another few minutes.". When I felt the change in the cut I stopped and resharpened the edge. In less time that it'd have taken if I'd "leaned into it", I had a round piece of oak ready for the skew.
Since this was not bone dry wood, the skew pealed ribbons almost from the get go. And as the surface was cut smoother the interrupted ribbongs became a continuous stream, covering my left hand and half way up my forearm. Normally I'd stop and shake them off so they wouldn't obscure the cutting edge. But this time I paid attention to the feel and watched the surface behind the cut - both telling me how the cut was going.
And this time I paid attention to the rest of me, noting that my jaw wasn't locked - I was smiling. My hands were relaxed and so the rest of me followed - no tight shoulders and neck, no stiff back and hips, my whole body just rocking gently back and forth, knees slightly bent, weight shifting from foot to foot and back.
By letting go, or at least lightening up my grip, I relied on the edge and the bevel to do their job with minimal effort on my part - both mental or physical. Mentally, I wasn't thinking ten steps ahead - no preconceived plan or shape - just here and now, just creating, or more precisely, being part of making a smooth symetric piece of wood. What it would end up being - well leave that for now - enjoying watching and feeling the ribbon of fresh pealed wood stream up my arm, the feel of the tool and the wood surface. All the participants were doing just what we were supposed to be doing - moment to moment - no before, no next - just now.
If, in the future, I can just resist the tempation to continue turning after the edge is gone, and lighten up and "let go" . ..
A buddhist monk - who is also an avid golfer - put it nicely talking about how after he'd sliced his first T shot and hooked the second it came to him - "I've got to stop putting so much ego on the ball.".
charlie b