Very Excited.
Left making things of useful beauty
3 days ago
Showing posts with label Cool Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cool Books. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Thursday, December 29, 2011
More cool books
Here are a couple more to add to the growing list of Cool Books. (New Tag on the right hand side of the blog.)
-I just finished re-reading Tage Frid teaches woodworking. There are three volumes. The first two are available together in a single softcover volume, which is what I just plowed through. Tage Frid went through a traditional apprenticeship in Denmark, and made a career out of woodwork, and teaching woodworking, and he has a clear no-nonsense approach to the work. He also makes a point to explain how to fix up less than perfect work, which is unusual in most of the WW books that I've read on the topic of furniture construction.
It's a dated volume in that it was put together in the 70's, and the photos are in black and white. But it's such a clean and clear rundown on so many basic and intermediate skills, that it's a no brainer for a beginner, and (obviously) I still go back to re-read it once in a while.
-Woodworker by Sam Maloof. One of the great things about Sam Maloof is that like Tage Frid, he was a no-nonsense craftsman. Sapwood? Fine. Wood screws? Absolutely. Wood worship? Sorry, not right now, need to make a living. In a world filled with hand tool purists and nonsense, it's still fun to see someone getting down with a surform rasp and a power sander. I recently read an interview with Maloof in FWW #25. He said that he got visits all the time from people who asked him if they could make it as a woodworker. He observed that a lot of them were more in love with the idea than the reality... and that schools pump out students who produce objects that are very precious, because there's enough time at school to obsess over detail. Getting work finished and out the door in time to get the bills paid is a much different experience.
-Given that I just referenced FWW #25, and that I'm working my way through my magazine archives to see what's there, I have to recommend any of the older issues of Fine Wood Working. The old issues were a lot denser, and the articles and tips were a lot more in-depth. It's not as approachable for rank beginners, but I appreciate reading articles that are a little more demanding of the reader. I want to grow as a woodworker, and I feel like recent and current crop of WW rags are trying really hard to engage beginners, not experienced or active woodworkers.
-365 Tao: Daily Meditations, by Ming-Dao Deng. I'm not always able to read this one every day, so it's going to take me much longer than 365 to get through it. I'm not a new-age hippy type, but Tao and Zen books have justified their place on my book shelf. And this one has managed to regularly offer insights that help me run and grow my shop and mind a little more smoothly.
-I just finished re-reading Tage Frid teaches woodworking. There are three volumes. The first two are available together in a single softcover volume, which is what I just plowed through. Tage Frid went through a traditional apprenticeship in Denmark, and made a career out of woodwork, and teaching woodworking, and he has a clear no-nonsense approach to the work. He also makes a point to explain how to fix up less than perfect work, which is unusual in most of the WW books that I've read on the topic of furniture construction.
It's a dated volume in that it was put together in the 70's, and the photos are in black and white. But it's such a clean and clear rundown on so many basic and intermediate skills, that it's a no brainer for a beginner, and (obviously) I still go back to re-read it once in a while.
-Woodworker by Sam Maloof. One of the great things about Sam Maloof is that like Tage Frid, he was a no-nonsense craftsman. Sapwood? Fine. Wood screws? Absolutely. Wood worship? Sorry, not right now, need to make a living. In a world filled with hand tool purists and nonsense, it's still fun to see someone getting down with a surform rasp and a power sander. I recently read an interview with Maloof in FWW #25. He said that he got visits all the time from people who asked him if they could make it as a woodworker. He observed that a lot of them were more in love with the idea than the reality... and that schools pump out students who produce objects that are very precious, because there's enough time at school to obsess over detail. Getting work finished and out the door in time to get the bills paid is a much different experience.
-Given that I just referenced FWW #25, and that I'm working my way through my magazine archives to see what's there, I have to recommend any of the older issues of Fine Wood Working. The old issues were a lot denser, and the articles and tips were a lot more in-depth. It's not as approachable for rank beginners, but I appreciate reading articles that are a little more demanding of the reader. I want to grow as a woodworker, and I feel like recent and current crop of WW rags are trying really hard to engage beginners, not experienced or active woodworkers.
-365 Tao: Daily Meditations, by Ming-Dao Deng. I'm not always able to read this one every day, so it's going to take me much longer than 365 to get through it. I'm not a new-age hippy type, but Tao and Zen books have justified their place on my book shelf. And this one has managed to regularly offer insights that help me run and grow my shop and mind a little more smoothly.
Happy (post) Holidays...
Once all of that has been dealt with, here are a few of the things I want to get done in the coming year:
-I've been talking for years about writing a book about my experiences as a beginning woodworker. Between working for Rockler and Woodcraft, going to the North Bennet Street School, and moving out of the basement and into a 'real' shop space, there's a lot to talk about, and the book has been simmering for years. I started taking the train in November to get some writing time in, and that was when I began to understand that the battery in my laptop is 4 years old. You can't write much in 25 minutes. But my loving sister gave me a new battery for Christmas, so I'll be able to put more time in on that project. Much like all of that holiday cheese, it really is time to get it out of my system, so I can think about something new.
-Related to the book, I'm going to start setting blogging deadlines, in part so that I can work out some of the things I plan on detailing in the book. The entries on shop organization were the first of many topics to come. Going forward, I plan on putting something up every Wednesday and Sunday.
-The shop should be getting some interesting projects pretty soon... among other things, there will be more clocks. And the process of organizing my thoughts on shop organization and workflow has forced me to call BS on some of my current methods, because I really could do better. There are some much needed improvements that need to be made.
-Other than the laptop battery, I got some really cool books this Christmas, one of which is a book on Wharton Esherick. He was (from what little I know) one of the direct fore-runners to studio furniture guys like Sam Maloof and George Nakashima. I enjoy tracing back the roots of the things that I'm excited about. Where did they come from, how did they evolve, that sort of thing. And just flipping through the Esherick book, I can tell it's going to be a blast. He made a lot of very visceral stuff, that reminds me alternately of American craft furniture, and Arts and Crafts furniture from guys like Sidney Barnsley. (Though Esherick's work seems a little more rough around the edges.) One of the things I want to write more about in the future is the art of woodworking, and pieces that actually inspire me. Shop methods and so on are useful when it comes to moving things forward a little faster, but inspiration is the fuel in the tank that keeps me going. I feel like the magazines do a methodical job of beating dovetails and beginner stuff to death, while ignoring a lot of the other really inspiring stuff that's out there. American craft furniture is a good place to start, but there's a lot more that I want to look into, from all over the world. Even if I don't plan to make most of it, it's usually enlightening to try to understand how things were made, and to wrap my mind around why various designs are so exciting.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
The Virtues of Imperfection... or, Another great book
I've taken to reading during my lunch break when I'm at the shop. Lately, I've been reading Unto This Last by John Ruskin. It's a Penguin reprint, and it also contains passages from Stones of Venice and a few other things that he wrote. Anybody who's read even the slightest bit about Arts and Crafts furniture has almost certainly heard Ruskin mentioned once or twice.
Ruskin's sentences are long, and the content can be dense. But it's a treasure trove of wonderful philosophy that's surprisingly approachable. He details his points very well, has a clear love of craft, and faith in the ability of mankind to improve and evolve. There's a lot of inspiration to be found in his writing.
Ruskin sees great virtue in the effort to grow and improve, though the road to better craftsmanship is paved with work that is inherently imperfect. He writes that an emphasis on perfection must naturally lead to an emphasis on work that is performed at a low enough skill level that it can be done without flaws. And he goes further, saying that that sort of enforced dumbing down is, in essence, a form of mental slavery. Perfectionism taken in the other direction leads to examples like Leonardo da Vinci, whose obsession with perfection kept him from finishing many paintings, even though he worked on some of them for almost 10 years. Famous though he was, it seems that it was this tendency that kept Leonardo from being a more prolific painter.
The lesson to take away from all this: Don't be afraid to learn. Don't be afraid to grow. And certainly don't be afraid to make a few mistakes in your efforts to become a better woodworker. We're only human.
Ruskin's sentences are long, and the content can be dense. But it's a treasure trove of wonderful philosophy that's surprisingly approachable. He details his points very well, has a clear love of craft, and faith in the ability of mankind to improve and evolve. There's a lot of inspiration to be found in his writing.
Ruskin sees great virtue in the effort to grow and improve, though the road to better craftsmanship is paved with work that is inherently imperfect. He writes that an emphasis on perfection must naturally lead to an emphasis on work that is performed at a low enough skill level that it can be done without flaws. And he goes further, saying that that sort of enforced dumbing down is, in essence, a form of mental slavery. Perfectionism taken in the other direction leads to examples like Leonardo da Vinci, whose obsession with perfection kept him from finishing many paintings, even though he worked on some of them for almost 10 years. Famous though he was, it seems that it was this tendency that kept Leonardo from being a more prolific painter.
The lesson to take away from all this: Don't be afraid to learn. Don't be afraid to grow. And certainly don't be afraid to make a few mistakes in your efforts to become a better woodworker. We're only human.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Words of Wisdom
Anyone who's been reading my 'life in general' posts will know that the past year or more has been characterized by a lot of growth and introspection on my part.
Many of the woodworkers I know have gone through a wood collecting phase. And I've heard a lot of stories about 'that one special piece of wood.' Maybe it's a huge slab of something really beautiful, or maybe it's a square foot of walnut crotch, containing the cross section of an actual walnut that was absorbed into the tree. And the typical reactions run along a similar strain... 'That one piece of wood is really, really awesome. But I don't want to ruin it, so I'm going to put it away until I figure out that one perfect project that will really show it off to perfection.'
I think what I started to realize last fall, and wasn't able to put into words, is that I was feeling the same way about my life. I had training, tools, wood, shop space, a small but growing portfolio, an honest to god Emmert vise under the bench, (but not mounted, don't wanna mess that up, either) people that believe in me... I really don't want to mess any of it up, so I'd better just shelve the whole thing until I figure out just how I'm going to make something out of it.
I finally managed to find a word that adequately describes the sensation:
Unworthy.
I tend to believe that all growth happens against resistance. But it's a delicate balance to strike: massive resistance can lead to massive growth... or massive failure. And that's a scary thing to sidle up to.
I posted a list recently of books that have really helped me learn things that have helped me to become a better woodworker. I left one out, and it's one that I consult almost every day that I'm in the shop: The Little Zen Companion. I can open that little book to any random page, and read something worth thinking about. One page stood out. It describes the three things that are required for learning, or growing... or for working on those special pieces of wood.
Many of the woodworkers I know have gone through a wood collecting phase. And I've heard a lot of stories about 'that one special piece of wood.' Maybe it's a huge slab of something really beautiful, or maybe it's a square foot of walnut crotch, containing the cross section of an actual walnut that was absorbed into the tree. And the typical reactions run along a similar strain... 'That one piece of wood is really, really awesome. But I don't want to ruin it, so I'm going to put it away until I figure out that one perfect project that will really show it off to perfection.'
I think what I started to realize last fall, and wasn't able to put into words, is that I was feeling the same way about my life. I had training, tools, wood, shop space, a small but growing portfolio, an honest to god Emmert vise under the bench, (but not mounted, don't wanna mess that up, either) people that believe in me... I really don't want to mess any of it up, so I'd better just shelve the whole thing until I figure out just how I'm going to make something out of it.
I finally managed to find a word that adequately describes the sensation:
Unworthy.
I tend to believe that all growth happens against resistance. But it's a delicate balance to strike: massive resistance can lead to massive growth... or massive failure. And that's a scary thing to sidle up to.
I posted a list recently of books that have really helped me learn things that have helped me to become a better woodworker. I left one out, and it's one that I consult almost every day that I'm in the shop: The Little Zen Companion. I can open that little book to any random page, and read something worth thinking about. One page stood out. It describes the three things that are required for learning, or growing... or for working on those special pieces of wood.
Friday, February 25, 2011
A few of my favorite non-woodworking, woodworking books
When I opened my first shop, I spent most of my time doing laps; futzing with this, fixing that, wondering where the time went, and why I hadn't gotten anything done. I compared that to my time at school, and it occurred to me that there was a lot more going on in the school environment that I hadn't really been seeing clearly. Like most well-executed details, all of the supporting elements were pretty much invisible, and streamlined enough that they did what they needed to do without calling attention to themselves. We had a machine room and bench area, with instructor supervision and tutelage, carts and machine room jigs, etc, and all I really needed to do was work.
In the pursuit of learning to be a better woodworker in the real world, I've had to reverse-engineer a lot of the supporting background details that I took so much for granted. But the process of learning how to build and run the rest of the machine takes a while to figure out. Making sure that I have what I need, where and when I need it, so that I can just focus on working, was a lot more involved than I thought, and these books have helped me to find my way.
---
-The Toyota Way by Jeffrey Liker
I'm not producing cars, I'm not in mass production, and I'm not doing anywhere near the kind of business that Toyota's doing. But this was still a great book that helped me become more productive. The core of Toyota's method is about slow, steady progress, and improving the end product by improving the process. Refining the process may involve procedure, shop flow, product design and design process... there's so much support work that goes behind any particular step. And I think that there's a lot for small woodworkers to learn here.
Woodworking is manufacturing. I don't think hobbyists want to see it that way, because who wants an industrial job for a hobby? But while many of them have a lot of fun shopping for new tools, I think a lot of them also end up spending a lot of time in the basement or garage futzing, and straightening up, and trying to clear off the bench, rather than actually working. I know I did. And I've seen a lot of pictures of benches... and shops... that were so clogged up with bits and pieces and half finished projects that there was no hope for any actual work to get done. It may feel counter-intuitive to apply a large-scale production mindset to a guy with basic tools in his basement. But the careful evolution of work habits, work space, and design is critical for lone woodworkers if they're going to get better. Setting up and maintaining a smoothly operating shop space is an ongoing process, and not just a series of attempts to fit 10 pounds of crap into a 5 pound bag.
This is a radical departure from the feeling I used to get from reading the glossy pages. ("Buy this machine, and you'll be able to build... THIS! In a weekend!") I really don't feel like there's a quantum leap to be made in the human ability to produce, no matter what the ads and articles are trying to sell you. Everything requires proper technique and procedure, and an appropriate amount of time. The tool store can sell you new toys, but they can't necessarily tell you how to incorporate those tools into your work flow and your shop in a way that will make sense. And that's the kind of problem that Toyota helped me to solve as things went on.
-The Back of the Napkin by Dan Roam. Back of the Napkin is a treatise on visual problem solving. A picture is worth a thousand words, and the human mind's ability to interpret a well thought out illustration can provide insights that those same thousand words still probably wouldn't inspire.
Problem solving is part of the process of gradual refinement. Sketching things out is a normal way to solve problems, especially for jigs and procedures. But it's easy to get carried away and draw things that look remarkably like the things you've seen before... even if those solutions aren't that great. When I started redesigning my crosscut sled, I found myself redrawing it again and again, and listing what I really needed, and what was really critical as I drew it. I went through 5 or 6 pages of sketches before I really started wrapping my mind around what was going on. I'm still a novice when it comes to visual problem solving. But I've learned a lot from it so far.
-The Gantt Chart, a Working Tool of Management, by Wallace Clark. Despite a technical background, I wound up with an English degree. None of my classes taught me anything about time or project management. They just made the papers longer, and assumed we'd figure it out. This book presented the most straightforward way to plan larger projects that I'd ever seen. While my engineering friends all know about Gantt charts, I'm pretty sure they generate them by computer. This was written in 1914, and everything was being done by hand. And that's generally how I use them, since I don't have a computer in the shop. I can generally compile a pretty decent procedure, or at least figure out what's next. But that doesn't really tell me much about how deep into the woods I am, or where I am in those woods. This is a tool that gives me a much more visual, intuitive way to actually see just how much more I have to go, and where I am in the context of what's left to be done.
-Getting Things Done by David Allen. Gantt charts may help me plan out a project and keep track of where I am in the process, but I still need to actually get into the groove and make things happen. This book is more about how to form more productive habits. The way he wrote it, this really is a book about how to manage paperwork in an office, so it took a while to adapt to the way I work. But he makes some very good points about storing ideas in places where you know they'll be safe, and organizing a work area so that it doesn't get too stagnant. For instance, I used to lose an hour or two a day to some side-track project that was tool or jig-oriented, because I just felt like I had to get it done, or it would be lost in the cloud of things that never get followed up on. Now I keep a notebook handy to write down those little side track tasks, so I can immediately regain focus on the task at hand. It helps me keep track of those side projects, so I know they'll get done, and in the meantime I can remain focused on what I'm doing.
---
This is by no means an exclusive list, but this post is already getting too long.
In the pursuit of learning to be a better woodworker in the real world, I've had to reverse-engineer a lot of the supporting background details that I took so much for granted. But the process of learning how to build and run the rest of the machine takes a while to figure out. Making sure that I have what I need, where and when I need it, so that I can just focus on working, was a lot more involved than I thought, and these books have helped me to find my way.
---
-The Toyota Way by Jeffrey Liker
I'm not producing cars, I'm not in mass production, and I'm not doing anywhere near the kind of business that Toyota's doing. But this was still a great book that helped me become more productive. The core of Toyota's method is about slow, steady progress, and improving the end product by improving the process. Refining the process may involve procedure, shop flow, product design and design process... there's so much support work that goes behind any particular step. And I think that there's a lot for small woodworkers to learn here.
Woodworking is manufacturing. I don't think hobbyists want to see it that way, because who wants an industrial job for a hobby? But while many of them have a lot of fun shopping for new tools, I think a lot of them also end up spending a lot of time in the basement or garage futzing, and straightening up, and trying to clear off the bench, rather than actually working. I know I did. And I've seen a lot of pictures of benches... and shops... that were so clogged up with bits and pieces and half finished projects that there was no hope for any actual work to get done. It may feel counter-intuitive to apply a large-scale production mindset to a guy with basic tools in his basement. But the careful evolution of work habits, work space, and design is critical for lone woodworkers if they're going to get better. Setting up and maintaining a smoothly operating shop space is an ongoing process, and not just a series of attempts to fit 10 pounds of crap into a 5 pound bag.
This is a radical departure from the feeling I used to get from reading the glossy pages. ("Buy this machine, and you'll be able to build... THIS! In a weekend!") I really don't feel like there's a quantum leap to be made in the human ability to produce, no matter what the ads and articles are trying to sell you. Everything requires proper technique and procedure, and an appropriate amount of time. The tool store can sell you new toys, but they can't necessarily tell you how to incorporate those tools into your work flow and your shop in a way that will make sense. And that's the kind of problem that Toyota helped me to solve as things went on.
-The Back of the Napkin by Dan Roam. Back of the Napkin is a treatise on visual problem solving. A picture is worth a thousand words, and the human mind's ability to interpret a well thought out illustration can provide insights that those same thousand words still probably wouldn't inspire.
Problem solving is part of the process of gradual refinement. Sketching things out is a normal way to solve problems, especially for jigs and procedures. But it's easy to get carried away and draw things that look remarkably like the things you've seen before... even if those solutions aren't that great. When I started redesigning my crosscut sled, I found myself redrawing it again and again, and listing what I really needed, and what was really critical as I drew it. I went through 5 or 6 pages of sketches before I really started wrapping my mind around what was going on. I'm still a novice when it comes to visual problem solving. But I've learned a lot from it so far.
-The Gantt Chart, a Working Tool of Management, by Wallace Clark. Despite a technical background, I wound up with an English degree. None of my classes taught me anything about time or project management. They just made the papers longer, and assumed we'd figure it out. This book presented the most straightforward way to plan larger projects that I'd ever seen. While my engineering friends all know about Gantt charts, I'm pretty sure they generate them by computer. This was written in 1914, and everything was being done by hand. And that's generally how I use them, since I don't have a computer in the shop. I can generally compile a pretty decent procedure, or at least figure out what's next. But that doesn't really tell me much about how deep into the woods I am, or where I am in those woods. This is a tool that gives me a much more visual, intuitive way to actually see just how much more I have to go, and where I am in the context of what's left to be done.
-Getting Things Done by David Allen. Gantt charts may help me plan out a project and keep track of where I am in the process, but I still need to actually get into the groove and make things happen. This book is more about how to form more productive habits. The way he wrote it, this really is a book about how to manage paperwork in an office, so it took a while to adapt to the way I work. But he makes some very good points about storing ideas in places where you know they'll be safe, and organizing a work area so that it doesn't get too stagnant. For instance, I used to lose an hour or two a day to some side-track project that was tool or jig-oriented, because I just felt like I had to get it done, or it would be lost in the cloud of things that never get followed up on. Now I keep a notebook handy to write down those little side track tasks, so I can immediately regain focus on the task at hand. It helps me keep track of those side projects, so I know they'll get done, and in the meantime I can remain focused on what I'm doing.
---
This is by no means an exclusive list, but this post is already getting too long.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Inspirational words of the day
"Men were not intended to work with the accuracy of tools, to be precise and perfect in all of their actions. If you will have that precision out of them you must unhumanise them.
If you will make a man out of the working creature you cannot make a tool. Let him but begin to imagine, to think, to try to do anything worth doing, and... out come all his roughness, all his incapacity... failure after failure... but out comes the whole majesty of him also."
-John Ruskin
If you will make a man out of the working creature you cannot make a tool. Let him but begin to imagine, to think, to try to do anything worth doing, and... out come all his roughness, all his incapacity... failure after failure... but out comes the whole majesty of him also."
-John Ruskin
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