Phillip Morley’s Three Ring Circus
Unfortunately, being a professional woodworker requires more...
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July 30, 2017
What Must One Sacrifice to the Altar of Technology?
What Must One Sacrifice to the Altar of Technology?
by Philip Morley
Okay. . . . as you know I am a furniture maker. I am NOT a marketing expert, a webmaster, a photographer, or a businessman. I have spent years learning how wood works, how to select wood grain for aesthetics, what joinery is most effective, how to be innovative with tools to achieve a unique and spectacular piece, how to design and build tables, chairs, and other furniture to be both beautiful and structurally sound, how to sand a piece delicately to achieve a soft flawless feel, how to finish a piece so that the natural beauty of the wood is brought out and highlighted without any blemish in the finish itself. I am the type of craftsman who will lose money on a project because I thought of a way to make it better, more unique, and add a detail that makes the piece even greater simply because I LOVE the challenge. I love my craft. My heart is in it and I simply cannot help doing the best that I can with every piece. I should be able to allow my pieces to speak for themselves. . . Right??
But I find myself struggling at the bottom of a technological well, screaming at the very top of my SEO voice, only to find that voice entirely lost in the easily overpowering expanse of information and feeling as completely insignificant and voiceless as a droplet of water. I have put my information on Etsy, Houzz, Custommade, etc. In every system, I lack the knowledge of how to push myself forward most effectively. I know that my listings come up buried under the mounds of those much more technologically savvy than myself (whose craftsmanship is not necessarily as advanced as my own). Am I the best furniture maker in the world? No. But I believe that I do have a significant gift, I KNOW that I have worked very hard to develop it. I would like to believe that my time would be better spent developing it further rather than sacrificing precious time to securing my delicate internet presence. Will the Google gods recognize this puny sacrifice as significant enough to grant my right to exist?
However, my frustration is that if I want to survive, I MUST spend my time screaming into the void and making my voice as loud as I can. Because in the end it doesn't matter how talented I am, how much time I spend agonizing over the details of a piece, how much attention I give to the joinery of piece to make sure that it is held together with a strength developed over thousands of generations of furniture makers. What matters is. . . . Â can I yell louder than next guy. Have I sacrificed enough time and money to the gods of technology? Have I screamed loudly enough? Should I even try?
Educating the Fool
Educating the Fool
by Philip Morley
Because, as we all have been told, mistakes teach us. But if mistakes make such great teachers, why do we dread them so much? I suspect it is because mistakes do not always seem like the kind encouraging teachers that the statement implies but rather harsh teachers that rely primarily on shaming to get their message across. :)
Below is just one example. :) I was about seventeen when I made this. Although I didn't know it at the time, this piece taught me a big lesson in wood movement among other things. :) For some, this probably sticks out to you straight away. But if not, take a look at the door panel. There is a huge gap between the panel and the frame. I assure you that was not by design and was not there when the piece was originally built. This piece taught me in a way that I will always remember, that I need to be conscious of wood movement and make sure not to build with wet wood!
Benjamin Franklin wrote, "Experience is a dear teacher but fools will learn from no other." Yep! I theoretically knew about wood movement, but this piece REALLY convinced me. Beyond wood movement, I think that I also learned to pay more attention to what my mentors said. Surprisingly enough, when I was younger I was sure that I knew better.. . . Okay sometimes, I still do. :) Having never had a problem with wood movement, I assumed I never would.:) Of course, while mistakes are inevitable, some (many even many) can avoided by simply listening to the advice of those who have been there before. More on mentors later. :)
The other benefit of mistakes is that you learn how to fix them. Yes, some mistakes are WAY too big to fix. There have been several heartbreaking pieces that ended up feeding a fire. There is fine line between deciding when to throw in the towel or try to move forward. Most of the time, however, the mistake can be fixed. The cool thing about furniture making is that in fixing in the mistakes, you learn new techniques and brainstorm new ideas that can applied in ANY situation not just trying to correct a problem. Sometimes, you have to go back a step or two but you learn from it and move on. In this pursuit of perfection mistakes are inevitable. I have learned you can either allow the mistakes to stop you cold or understand that mistakes will be made and you will learn from them. A friend once told me that if you feel totally comfortable in your profession then you are probably doing the wrong thing. As I take risks, make mistakes, and try to move forward, I take comfort in this conclusion. I may be really uncomfortable at times as a furniture maker, but I am definitely in the right profession. :P
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