A Different Carving

Last week I took a very welcome break to go skiing and I couldn’t stop thinking about wood turning. Not just because of the many similarities between skiing and turning, but because I’m not a great skier. I’m just good enough to know how much better I could be and I’m trying to find my way to actually being good at it. As a turner, I wanted to improve so the results would look better and I could be more consistent and fast. Luckily, with skiing, the only result is my enjoyment of doing it, the mountain doesn’t end up any better for my effort one way or the other.

The need to understand the physics, balance and movement is obviously important in both activities. I find it humbling and informative to be in the novice role. I’ve been searching out youtube videos for decent instruction to help me with technique, but more importantly, the goals. I find so much stuff out there that doesn’t give me the whole picture, just bits and pieces of good/bad or exercises that will help me, without helping me connect the dots. Just like turning, there’s the material (wood/ snow), the equipment, the motion and the intention. As much as I was thinking about what I was doing as I went down the slopes, I was thinking about how important it is to frame the question first. There’s a tons of answers, but the questions can be fuzzy. Any learning is a building process of understanding concepts and then mastering the movements. Not understanding roles of each factor can lead to lots of confusion. Do I need longer skis, is my skew sharp enough, am I moving my body enough towards the headstock or should I be leaning more in my boots?

Much of what kept crossing my mind was how I strive to create or find information that helps bring it all together. Here is a video I made in answer to the question from a reader. He wanted to know how to set the height of his lathe. It would be simple enough to offer a chart correlating user height to lathe height. But there is a simple concept at hand that I wanted to share. No chart, just a way to find your own solution.

Every time I’m asked what angle I grind a tool, I’ve feel a slight sense of dread. At some point, I’ve measured angles for my book or an article, but in practice, I’ve never measured an angle. I have two factors I pay attention to, does it perform well and does it hold up. This doesn’t help you if you don’t have any baseline for how it should perform or what a blade looks like when it doesn’t hold up. But it’s far closer to the truth of how activities play out. There are no magic grind angles that will make you a great turner or ski widths that tame the mountain. Yes, these things matter, but far less than than connecting the dots of the basic question, “What are you trying to do?” and how does the concept of that tool address the task. I recall teaching a class with Nick Cook. Nick is a professional production turner and when he walked up to the student at the lathe, he never said, “you need to change this tool”, he just took the tool, dull or misshaped as it was and proceeded to show them how to use it to get the job done.

After lots of searching, I’m getting closer to understanding the big picture when it comes to skiing. Now I have to face the second part of the equation. Building experience. There is not substitution for time and practice. You aren’t just learning a skill, your are building muscle and rewiring your brain. When I was skiing this week, I noticed my confidence build as I would turn my skis to go straight down a slope that would have frozen me in terror a few weeks ago. I came to trust my body would react in a way that would keep me safe. Turning is no different. There is no secret move, just a growing comfort with repetition, muscle development and logging predictable results.

The last comparison I’ll draw is about how to practice. With skiing, I experienced a huge energy problem in the first few runs. I had too much of it. Akin to grabbing the skew like it owes you money. I would throw my body around and push in places that didn’t need any pushing. After those initial tense runs, I got tired. This is the sweet spot. I was too tired to rely on force but still had the energy to experiment and be curious. During these times, I focused on the feeling and tried different things to understand their impact. Later in the day, I was too tired to pull off curiosity. During that time, I just relied on what I knew and let my body find the easiest path. There comes a point when it’s time to let the day go. I encourage turners to practice for short periods when learning new techniques. It’s exhausting and after a while, all you will get is frustration. A good night sleep will do more for you than one more bead.

I can’t wait to get back on the slopes, the trees will be budding before we know it, but first, I have a class to teach and more parts to turn.