don't do it yourself (sometimes)

In a culture that's increasingly dominated by a Do-It-Yourself spirit (which I am not condemning in any way), I think it's important to sit back sometimes and give the admiration that is due to master craftsmen, who make the decision to devote their lives to becoming a true expert in their field. If you're like me, then you struggle with wanting to be a jack-of-all-trades (and consequently a master of none), so I have a deep respect for these master craftsmen and women who sacrifice basic aptitude in myriad fields for true excellence in one.

Another burden falls on those who try to portray this level of excellence for the rest of us to appreciate. It takes another kind of master to capture and condense a lifetime (or many lifetimes) of experience and skill into a series of photos or a short video. I want to share a couple videos and photos that have overcome this obstacle and give us a glimpse of the life and work of master craftsmen.

The making of a classic Globe-Trotter suitcase:



The American Craftsman Project: This is a breathtaking series of photographs documenting a variety of American craftsmen.
http://americancraftsmanproject.com/

The making of an Alfred Dunhill Tradition Case:



Rick Hearne, a fine hardwoods dealer, talks about showing off the beauty of rare wood.
http://woodtreks.com/rick-hearne-never-tires-of-hidden-beauty-in-rare-logs/231/
The WoodTreks site features a huge selection of great videos on all things woodworking.

simple.

Lately I find myself desiring a simpler existence.


This isn't groundbreaking by any means; I think most people experience the draw of simple living, whether in the form of living in a smaller house, or making/growing more of their own food, or any of the other frugalities (probably a real word) that have become trendy in the "current economic climate". So why can't more people achieve the lifestyle they claim they want? It should be as easy as a visit to goodwill, and some canning lessons from your great-aunt Thelma, right?

I guess I can't speak for anyone else, so I'll be content in pondering the foes I face in achieving a simpler life.

As far as I can remember, I've always been a pack-rat, like my father before me. The "junk" I've salvaged over the years would serve to finish ten times over the projects I've started and never finished. I could totally tear down those pallets and build something out of them. I should probably save these wine bottles too, they'd be perfect for some project. Don't throw that away, I could re-purpose it into something!

Supply far outweighs demand. There are never enough "somethings" to turn the junk into. Either that, or I don't have enough of an attention span to finish projects that don't turn out to be as fulfilling as I'd dreamed when I saw that [fill in the blank] sitting on the corner. It would seem that I hate waste, not for any altruistic reasons, but for a selfish fear of of being without a free solution should the need arise. And so I hoard, cluttering my home and life with materials and projects that I can't let go of. The surface intention may be a self-sustaining simplicity, but that's just an excuse to surround myself with social flotation devices like neat little hobbies and "Did you see this cool thing that Daniel made?"

There's nothing wrong with wanting to carve spoons, but with so many things dividing my attention in this fast-paced world, there isn't time to devote to these crafts without sacrificing something for them. The lie I tell myself is that I can add as many projects as I want by paring down these activities smaller and smaller until I only have 15 minutes on a Thursday between 5:00 and 5:15 to work on project #264 (and more than likely I'll spend that time on Facebook anyway).

So what do you do?

Awhile ago I decided that I wanted to read more books, so I grabbed one off the shelf, sat down, and made it through about 15 pages before I got distracted by something and put the book down. Half my books still have bookmarks in their first 30 pages. I began to ask myself what it was that was getting in the way of finishing a book, and it very quickly became apparent that it was the available distractions of a computer/tv, and the sleep-inducing comfort of my "reading chair". Easy solution: go read somewhere else. I've managed to finish a stack of books since this revelation, but it wasn't easy to devote the the singular goal of reading. Sitting on my couch with my computer at hand gives the illusion that I'm seconds away from building some project, trying some recipe, or picking up some book, but the allure of the mindless entertainment via the internet is a difficult gravity well to escape.

Some might say, "But Daniel, you're so industrious, you build stuff and garden and bake things and so on and so forth..." And they're right, I collect hobbies like anything else, but without adequate time to devote to any of them, I become familiar in all, and excellent in none. Is it wrong to want to be a jack-of-all-trades? I don't know, but I would venture a guess that Jack had to be pretty competent in those trades if he had any intention of getting work.

I guess this is as close as I get to fear of commitment. I can't settle on one hobby/skill, for fear of being found wanting in another. This is probably rooted in a fear of dependence on anyone else. If I know how to weld and woodwork and cook and garden and make my own clothes, I don't have to rely on anyone else. But the freedom of independence isn't worth missing out on true community. Living a simple life seems to be (perhaps counter-intuitively) easier in community.

Well, kinda got into a ramble there, but whatever. Time to get off the computer and start doing something. Excellently.