"It's very common for people to separate the things they do from the things they need.  It's very uncommon that people take a raw material to make a thing, and then use it." Jögge Sundqvist, Swedish woodworker

How did all this get started?
     For starters, I would be remiss if I didn't credit my father.  His creative spirit was contagious during a lifetime spent dabbling in numerous artistic endeavors, including needlepoint, woodcarving, music, landscape architecture (gardening), watercolors, and pastels.  My dad passed away on July 25, 2005, but his spirit lives on in every piece of woodwork I make.
     On a more mundane level, my formal education centered around science and the humanities--a blessing in many ways.  But I always felt there was something missing.  As I got older I regretted never getting to take "shop" or "industrial arts" or whatever you might call it.  It seems that in our society there are two kinds of people, the ones who make things and the ones who buy them, and having been trained to be the latter, I yearned to be the former.  Finally, I got up the nerve to try woodworking.
     Woodworking challenges me to create works of art with a natural, ecologically sound material, using specialized tools that can frustrate the beginner but empower the skilled user, and it bestows upon me skills that have been passed along over hundreds if not thousands of years.  The results of my efforts are attractive, durable pieces that stand to become treasured heirlooms.  My favorite items in my own home are those whose creation I played a part in.
     The beauty of woodworking is that the craftsman's material is all around him.  Here in the Mid South we have an incredibly rich diversity of hardwood species, and I often start with green wood, straight from the forest.  Whenever possible, I harvest wood from a tree that has fallen down in a storm or has been felled by a construction crew, and work with material that otherwise would have been chucked in a landfill or, at best, cut up for firewood.
     Green wood is much easier to split and work with edged tools than dry wood, and I do much of my woodworking with simple, traditional hand tools.  I split my wood with wedges and a woodsman's froe, and I shape furniture parts using a drawknife, a spokeshave, hand planes, chisels, and carving knives.  While I do own a selection of power tools and appreciate the ease afforded by modern technology, there is something gratifying about using my own muscles and simple physical forces to render a mass of wood into beautiful, functional objects.
     A woodworker's waste products pose no threat to the environment.  The shavings from my drawknife and spokeshave are useful for kindling in the fireplace and packing material for shipping; I compost the rest, along with sawdust and other wood waste picked up by the dustpan and vacuum cleaner.
     As for those less eco-friendly products I use--finishing chemicals, "treated" lumber, and the like--I make use of all recycling programs available in my community, and I make an effort to keep my solid waste at a minimum.  Rags, paper towels, lumber scraps, and paint brushes go through multiple uses before I throw them away.  I try to avoid the more toxic compounds and reuse solvents numerous times before throwing them out.
     While I cannot claim to have adopted the harsh, rugged life of the pioneers, I appreciate their ability to make everything they had using only the materials around them.  Beyond making a living for myself and satisfying my customers with beautiful, sturdy items, I endeavor to develop a healthy, symbiotic relationship with the local landscape and its denizens.
 

Some traditional woodworking tools.

The raw material.