Chervin Custom Woodworks: A Journey of Sawdust and Serendipity
You know, there’s something about woodworking that just gets under your skin. The smell of sawdust, the hum of machinery—it’s almost meditative in a way. I’ve spent more evenings than I can count in my little garage, working on projects, wrestling with wood like it’s a living thing. But what really keeps me grounded in it all is this small business I’ve got going on: Chervin Custom Woodworks. And lemme tell you, it hasn’t been a walk in the park.
It all started one rainy evening, when I was staring at my bare living room walls, trying to decide how I should go about sprucing things up. I had some leftover pine from an old project—beautiful, said to be the “working man’s wood”—and I thought, “Why not build a custom shelf?” I just wanted something simple to hold my collection of books and maybe a few plants, y’know?
The Seed is Planted
So, I pulled out my trusty miter saw—oh, that thing’s been with me for years. It’s a DeWalt, a bit rusty around the edges but it still buzzes to life like it’s brand new. You should’ve seen me that day, excited to get started. I can still hear that satisfying zrrrtt sound when the blade bit into the wood.
But here’s where the trouble started. You see, I kinda skipped the part where I measured everything properly. The wood was nice and all, but I was so eager to dive into it that I didn’t really think about how wide the shelf ought to be or how high it should sit on the wall. Honestly had no clue what I was doing—I felt like a kid playing house. So I started cutting like I was in some woodworking competition, and after a while, I stood back to take a look.
A Flop and a Laugh
Okay, so at first glance, it looked decent enough. You know, just like those “Pinterest fails” you see? I held it up against the wall and started laughing because it was… well, off. Not just a little—like, I could practically hear the wood mocking me. One side was way lower than the other, and I was left standing there, shaking my head. Who knew a simple shelf could be such a diva?
I almost gave up that day. I mean, who was I kidding? I talked a big game about being this “craftsman,” but I couldn’t even hang a shelf straight. But then I remembered this old saying my grandpa had: “Wood can be forgiving if you let it.” And I thought, alright, it’s time to embrace the chaos. I took a deep breath, picked up my trusty orbital sander, and just started reshaping the edges.
Building Momentum
It’s funny how one mistake can turn into a beautiful lesson. I learned that day that measuring twice (or thrice) is worth it, but also that each piece has its own character. Okay, so after some tweaking, I finally got it to hang right. I took my time, used a beautiful mix of Danish oil to finish it off, and let me tell you, that smell? Heaven.
Neighbors would occasionally wander by, a slight smile creeping onto their faces as they caught a whiff of that rich, woodsy aroma. I’d always wave them over, showing off my latest “masterpiece,” even when I was still figuring it out. "Look at this shelf! A labor of love right here!" I’d say, kinda like a proud parent.
Word of Mouth
After that first shelf, it snowballed into more projects. I made some tables, then the occasional custom request from friends who saw the shelf and got curious. “Could you make me a coffee table?” “What about a spice rack for my kitchen?” I remember feeling a bit like I was in over my head but, truth be told, the challenge excited me.
Something about that the first time a neighbor came to pick up their custom piece. I’d worked for days on it, filled the air with the rhythmic thud of the hammer and the whirr of the router. And to see someone’s eyes light up when they saw it made all the mistakes worthwhile. It was one of those moments where you think, “Hey, maybe I’m onto something here.”
Community Connections
The best part? I found this small community of woodworkers online. It’s like a band of misfits, all sharing advice, showing off their latest projects, and cheering each other on. I learned about different types of wood, from oak to walnut, and got tips on tools, like the miracle of using a good jigsaw instead of trying to muscle through everything with just a handsaw. Oh boy, that was a game-changer!
I even discovered some local lumber shops that had the best selection—nothing feels quite like picking out a piece of wood and feeling the grain run through your fingers. And don’t even get me started on the local woodworker meet-ups! There’s something humbling about standing in a room full of others who understand that little silence between the first cut and the final polish.
Embracing the Chaos
Looking back, it’s been a rocky journey. But isn’t that what makes it all worthwhile? If I hadn’t wrestled those shelves into being, I wouldn’t have found the satisfaction of creating something unique. Sure, I’ve misjudged measurements and mixed up finishes, but those little mistakes? They’re what make every piece I create feel special.
If you’re thinking about diving into woodworking—or really any craft—just go for it. Honestly, I wish someone had told me this earlier: let the wood speak to you. Don’t be afraid of mistakes; they’re just part of the process. Just grab your tools, find a corner in your garage, and let the magic happen. Who knows where it might lead you—or what beautiful disasters you might create along the way?
