It’s 8am in the woodworking shop and a quick scan shows the havoc in charge of things. The miter saw has a growing companion – the drops and cutoffs that accumulate as I work. The table saw is more table than saw, the result of stowing things last night so the family car could be parked inside. With a slap to my forehead I notice that I left the bandsaw blade in tension overnight. The leftover materials from the outdoor sign job are still blocking part of the storage shelving.
The trouble is this: I have too many things going on at once and I rarely have time to stop at the end of a project and make it look like a workshop instead of a dumpsite.
The sign job is done but its tracks are still visible.
The job for the streetrod builder across the street, truck bed panels in black walnut for his latest marvel, has walnut pieces stacked and strewn where they aught not to be. I keep telling myself I’ll take care of them, but it seems like the end of the day arrives while there are still things glued up and in clamps or finish curing on something – and some other matter demands my attention, so I move the work to the most convenient, if not the most ideal, place in the shop.
So at night the stacks of walnut slabs are stacked on the tablesaw.
I’ve been making use of the walnut material to make small items like rings and buttons from the walnut cutoffs because I can’t bring myself to put them in the box where I put things for my neighbor to burn in his campfires. I know I shouldn’t be so anxious about the fate of these things, but I always feel like I’m dropping money down a bottomless well when I discard beautiful little pieces of good hardwood.
And then there’s my pet, non-paying project. I want to have a large, wooden camera that looks like the studio cameras from the early film camera days. Only I want it to be built so my little digital camera can be its beating heart. A turning resembling a short but large diameter lens barrel has on opening deep inside, behind a plain glass front where the lens barrel of the digital camera sits.
Of course, that requires special mounting arrangements so the digital camera can be secured squarely and enough room to operate it.
The fake lens barrel is painted bright gold and the inside, between the glass cover and the real camera lens is matte black.
With that nearly complete the main body parts are taking shape. A lens board of oak with walnut surround, big enough to give me room to stick my head under the black cloth and see the digital screen and enough room left over for at least one hand to operate camera controls. Then a larger main camera body of oak and walnut will complete the illusion. I’m also tinkering with the idea of an authentic looking studio tripod with ess shaped legs and big wheels.
Perhaps some way and depressing the shutter button from the outside of the camera, too.
So the picture, to advance the photo theme, emerges, an old man with too many projects and ideas and not enough time and space to deal with them neatly.
I’m going to do something about it soon, I swear!
I just don’t know how.
Another deep sigh.
What’s that, honey? I haven’t finished the project in the living room?
There’s something you want me to do for your website? OK, sweetheart, I’ll be right in.
There may be a treatment for my condition, but I don’t have time to look for it.
Maybe it’s under that stack of drops by the mitersaw.
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