The International Woodworking Festival: A Woodworker’s Story
You know how every once in a while, something comes along that just makes you stop and think, “Wow, this is why I do what I do”? That was the International Woodworking Festival for me last year. Pull up a chair, will ya? I’ve got a story to share over this cup of coffee.
Now, I’ll be honest: I’ve been in the woodworking game for a while now—enough to say I’ve messed up more than I’ve succeeded. I think back to my first project: a coffee table that ended up looking more like a pile of kindling than anything resembling furniture. But, hey, we learn, right?
Last year, I heard about this woodworking festival happening a few towns over. I was pumped, thinking it would be a great way to connect with other woodworkers and see some amazing pieces. You know, just a bunch of folks like me, all clamped together by our love for wood, tools, and the smell of fresh sawdust in the air. It sounded great in theory.
A Journey Begins
So, I’m there, in this big venue buzzing with energy. You could feel the excitement just walking through the doors, the sound of jointers and planers humming in the background, an orchestra of woodworkers making sweet music. I’ve been teaching myself through YouTube videos, so I thought, “Hey, I’m gonna learn some serious skills here.”
But—there’s always a ‘but’, isn’t there?—as soon as I started talking to some of the pros, I felt like a fish out of water. I mean, these folks were talking about exotic woods I had never even heard of! Did you know there’s a type of wood called Lignum Vitae? It’s dense, heavy, and smells like… well, I can’t put my finger on it, but it wasn’t cedar or pine. Anyway, one guy was raving about how he got his hands on a vintage plane that belonged to a master craftsman from the 1800s. And here I was, proud of my decent-ish Ryobi miter saw and a few clamps from the local hardware store.
Trying Something New
It was on the second day I found a workshop about making cutting boards, and I thought, “I can do that!” I mean, who doesn’t need another cutting board, right? The workshop leader was this older gentleman with a beard that could probably house a family of squirrels. He talked about using different types of hardwoods and showed us how to get those end-grain patterns. I felt like a kid in a candy store.
I signed up, and they handed me a chunk of maple and walnut. The smell of that freshly cut wood was intoxicating. It reminded me of warm summer days back in my granddad’s workshop, where he would bend over his toolbox, the air thick with the scent of oil and varnish. I almost got lost in the moment.
But—yep, there’s that ‘but’ again. As I was working on my board, I realized I had no idea how to properly glue such large pieces together. The instructor gave me a quick demo on how to clamp joints, but I couldn’t seem to get a clean line. I thought, "Great, I’m gonna ruin this beautiful piece of wood." I nearly gave up.
An Unexpected Turn
But it was funny, really. Just as I was about to throw in the towel, the instructor walked by and said, “Hang tight; every mistake teaches you something.” I’ve got to admit, that moment hit me like a ton of bricks. So, I took a deep breath, re-evaluated what I was doing, and tried again.
After some not-so-graceful trials with the clamps and way too much wood glue, I began to see something beautiful take shape. Slowly, that darn cutting board came together. And I’ll never forget that moment when it did—when I pulled it from the clamps and sanded it down to a smooth finish. I couldn’t help but laugh at how worried I’d been earlier. In that moment, I felt like I had finally nailed something, and it was all mine.
Lessons Learned
There’s a part of me that thinks, why do we put so much pressure on ourselves? We’re all just trying to create something out of nothing, right? I knew every rough edge, every slip of the planer, every brush with failure had been worth it when I got home and set that board on my kitchen counter. It’s not stunning by any means—just a simple, solid piece that reminds me of a day filled with passion and creativity.
Now I think about it often; woodworking is like life. It’s messy, sometimes frustrating, but beyond exciting when everything finally comes together. And yeah, I’ve made mistakes—plenty of them. But you learn to embrace those knots and flaws, those lessons learned from stubborn pieces of wood that don’t cooperate.
Wrap Up
If you’re even thinking about giving this woodworking thing a shot, please, just go for it. Dive in! You might surprise yourself. Sure, you’ll probably have a project (or five) that doesn’t go as planned, but with time, patience, and maybe a few cups of coffee, you’ll find joy in the process. Trust me, you’re going to love the smell of the wood and the sound of saws buzzing. And who knows? You might end up with a cutting board that tells your own story, mistakes and all.
