Woodworking is not merely an act of creation but a conversation between the craftsman and the material. Every piece of wood holds within it the memory of its origins—a sapling reaching toward the sun, enduring winds and storms, shaped by time and environment. When we take a chisel or plane to its surface, we are not imposing our will but collaborating with its story. In truly listening to wood, we bridge the divide between nature and human creativity, creating works reflecting our skills and the natural world’s beauty. Mastery lies in listening to that story, honouring it, and guiding it into its next chapter. The question is: Are you willing to pause long enough to hear what the wood has to say?
When you pick up a piece of wood, do you see a lifeless material waiting to be shaped, or do you sense its story—its history, character, and potential to become something enduring? How might your approach change if you pause to listen to what the wood itself says?
My Approach To Mastery
By ‘Mastery’, I consider it to be pursuing deeper understanding and intuition in my craft. It transcends technical skills, focusing instead on forming a meaningful connection with the material, the process, and the purpose behind the work. It is not about perfection but about presence—engaging fully with each step, honouring the unique qualities of the materials, and striving to create something that resonates beyond function or form. Mastery is as much a mindset as a skill set, requiring patience, reverence, and an unending curiosity.
The Soul of Wood: A Hidden Dialogue
Every piece of wood tells a story that began long before it reached my workshop. Its grain patterns whisper the seasons it endured, the knots reveal its struggles, and its scent carries the memory of the forest it called home. To me, wood is not merely a resource but a living record, a partner in creation, and a vessel of possibility.
Understanding the soul of wood means looking beyond its surface qualities to connect with its essence. It means recognising the energy it holds, the imperfections that give it character, and the voice it carries. This soul is not something to be tamed or conquered but to be honoured and understood. The true art of woodworking begins when we stop working against the material and instead start working with it—listening, adapting, and collaborating.
How I Seek to Understand Wood
1. Deep Study and Observation
Mastery begins with an intimate knowledge of the wood’s characteristics. This involves a sensory and emotional connection to the material beyond a technical understanding of species and grades. This includes:
Grain and Texture: I carefully study the grain, understanding how it flows and interacts with light. Observing the texture reveals how the wood will react to tools and finishes, guiding the craftsman’s approach.
Seasonal Impact: The time of year the tree was felled affects the wood’s density and behaviour. Mastery involves learning how these subtle details influence a project. This can be harder when preserving an antique piece, so a heightened focus on the timber and its story is required.
Observation Practices: I often visit timber recyclers to interact with raw and recycled timbers. I like to handle pieces, run my hands along surfaces, or even smell the wood. These tactile experiences build familiarity and intuition. Talking with the business owners about where they sourced the timbers also provides valuable insights into timbers and their stories. For example, I might spend time identifying the growth rings in a milled log and imagining the conditions under which the tree grew—was it battered by storms or nurtured in a fertile grove? These insights often guide how I approach the piece.
2. Listening to the Wood
Wood is not an inert material—it has preferences and tendencies, and I have learnt to listen. It expands and contracts with the prevailing weather. It may have inherent tension within the grain due to the environment in which it grew. “Listening’ encompasses:
Material Feedback: The sound of a chisel or saw tells me how the wood responds. Is it resisting or yielding? Listening to these subtle cues helps prevent mistakes and reveals the best approach for each project.
Design as Collaboration: I allow the wood to influence the final piece rather than forcing a preconceived design. A knot may inspire a decorative element, or a flaw may suggest a new structural idea.
Patience and Awareness: Rushing the process silences the wood’s voice. Slowing down gives the material time to reveal its nature. For example, an irregularly shaped piece of wood has unique attributes, and I let its natural form dictate the design rather than trying to impose a rigid plan on the timber.
3. Honouring Imperfections
I like celebrating wood's flaws and individuality, seeing them as opportunities for creativity. Japanese culture has been conducive to understanding imperfections in the wood and even in my work. I now see opportunities where I previously saw problems. For example:
Embracing Wabi-Sabi: The Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi teaches that beauty lies in imperfection. Cracks, knots, and discolourations add depth and character to a piece.
Repair as Art: Techniques like kintsugi (repairing with gold) can be applied to woodworking, turning imperfections into focal points rather than hiding them.
Creating Meaningful Pieces: Using imperfect wood often results in unique, soulful creations that stand apart from factory-perfect (manufactured) items.
4. Experimentation with Tools and Techniques
My journey has been built on exploration—testing the limits of tools, techniques, and materials. Examples include:
Tool Experimentation: I experiment with different tools to see how they shape the wood. A traditional Japanese-style plane might bring out qualities in the timber that a machine tool could miss. I now prefer tools that are powered by my hands. Many woodworking machines disregard the unique characteristics of grain and timber and just ‘blindly power through’. Hand tools force me to slow down and connect with each stroke, allowing the wood to reveal its subtleties in a way machines often obscure.
Unconventional Methods: I like to explore different project methods, such as bending wood with steam, laminating thin layers, or carving with unusual angles to uncover new possibilities.
Finishing Trials: I have tested various oils, waxes, stains, and varnishes to learn how they interact with different woods. Finishing timbers is critical to enhancing the wood’s natural beauty rather than masking it. Finishing timbers has been such a deep enquiry for me that I have written a dedicated book on the topic, ‘Wax on Wood’.
5. Teaching and Sharing Knowledge
I understand that woodworking is part of a more significant legacy, and I see sharing knowledge as both a responsibility and an opportunity for growth. However, having a mastery mindset does not make me a guru. I prefer to see mastery as a guide and teacher. Significant areas of focus include:
Mentorship: I share my insights with others, teaching them techniques and the philosophy of respecting the material. Some colleagues come to me with a specific outcome in mind for their projects. It is not uncommon, however, for the project brief to change once a detailed evaluation is made. A new narrative can open up when the project is approached from a mastery context.
Preserving Traditions: I like to document traditional methods that might otherwise be lost, ensuring that the soul of the craft continues for future generations.
Learning Through Teaching: Teaching others often reveals gaps in my understanding, encouraging deeper dives in pursuit of mastery.
6. Sustainability and Ethical Practices
Master-level woodworking encourages a holistic approach to the craft, which includes respect for the environment and embracing sustainable practices. This translates to practices such as:
Sourcing Responsibly: I use ethically sourced or reclaimed wood to minimise environmental impact.
Zero-waste mindset: I find uses for every part of the material, from sawdust to offcuts. Even small scraps can become works of art, and the sawdust can become mulch for my gardens.
Celebrating Local Woods: I explore native species in my area, learning their unique properties and celebrating their connection to the local environment in which I live.
7. Continual Learning and Curiosity
Adopting a mastery mindset is not a destination but a lifelong journey of exploration and growth. For example, I might study related fields like forestry, botany, or the chemistry of finishes to deepen my understanding of the material. I also find inspiration in cross-disciplinary crafts by studying other crafts, such as pottery or metalworking, to bring fresh perspectives to my woodworking. Flicking through the pages of my journal reveals experiments and insights and has become a personal resource to refer to and share with others.
The Mindset of Mastery
Mastery begins in my mind. It’s not just about the skills I have acquired but about how I approach the craft, the materials, and life. I have found a master’s mindset combines patience, humility, curiosity, and an enduring respect for the journey over the destination. Here’s how this mindset has manifested in my craft:
1. Patience as a Cornerstone
Mastery cannot be rushed. It grows slowly, shaped by years of practice and reflection. The wood itself teaches patience. From the drying process to the precise motions of hand tools, the craft rewards those willing to slow down and savour the journey. I now approach each project as a marathon, not a sprint. I focus on one step at a time, trusting that progress will come naturally through consistent effort.
2. Reverence for the Material
I respect the wood as a craft partner, not a passive resource. Each piece has its strengths, limitations, and personality, and I seek to work harmoniously with these traits. This reverence extends to using wood responsibly, minimising waste, and honouring its origin as part of a living tree. This change in focus means I now begin every project with gratitude. I acknowledge the history and effort that brought the wood into my hands.
3. Humility and a Willingness to Learn
Mastery is a journey without an endpoint. I never assume I know everything, but I seek to remain open to learning—whether from materials, peers, or failures. It has taken a while; however, I now embrace mistakes as opportunities for growth, not setbacks. I find if I keep a "beginner's mind” by starting each project as though it’s my first, allowing curiosity and discovery to guide me.
4. A Spirit of Curiosity
I like to continually ask questions: What can this piece of wood teach me? How can I refine this technique? What happens if I try something new? This curiosity drives experimentation and innovation, keeping the craft dynamic and evolving. I provide time, which I call my ‘skunkworks’, to experiment without the pressure of creating something perfect. I like to explore new woods, finishes, or techniques to expand my knowledge.
5. Discipline and Consistency
Like any other undertaking, mastery is built on consistent, deliberate practice. It’s not about grand gestures but about showing up day after day and honing my skills incrementally. Discipline also means respecting the tools, maintaining a clean and organised workspace, and developing rituals that support focus and precision. This translates to my music choices, workshop layout and regular conversation with my dog. It is also about routines, even if it’s as simple as sharpening tools at the same time each week.
6. Seeing Beyond the Surface
Our senses condition us. A master learns to "see" in multiple dimensions—understanding the wood's physical qualities and potential. This mindset requires looking beyond immediate challenges and imperfections to envision the result. For example, before starting a project, I imagine its possibilities. I like to sketch ideas in a notebook, hold the wood in my hands, and let its form guide my vision. I often say, “The wood tells me where we will go with the project”.
7. Embracing Imperfection
Perfection is not the goal—beauty, authenticity, and meaning are. A mastery mindset means accepting and celebrating the imperfections that make each piece unique. Imperfections in the wood, the process, or even my skills are opportunities for creativity and storytelling. I have learned to change my mindset from "perfect execution" to "authentic expression." I let imperfections become part of the narrative of my work.
8. Gratitude and Legacy
I see my craft as part of a more significant legacy, contributing to the history of woodworking and passing my knowledge on to others. I have had mentors and teachers over the years, and I am deeply grateful for their insights and patience. I am also thankful for the opportunity to work with my hands and create enduring pieces that become a driving force. When preserving an antique, I see myself as the interim custodian, for I am sure it will outlive me. It becomes far more than a task to restore functionality but an act of reverence for a piece that has endured generations.
Adopting the mindset of mastery has transformed woodworking from a task into a way of life. It’s about approaching the craft with patience, reverence, and curiosity, seeing each project as an opportunity to learn and grow. True mastery isn’t about the final product—it’s about who I have become in creating it. When we listen to the wood, honour its story, and respect its soul, we elevate the craft and ourselves. In mastering wood, we master part of ourselves.
What will you create when you genuinely listen to the soul of wood?
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