The trade school I recommend…

 In today’s world, craftspeople and tradespeople have more to learn than ever. It’s not just about developing the hands-on skills—it’s also about training the eye to recognize good proportions and fine details.

I’ve been fortunate to learn through hands-on experience, especially by disassembling old furniture and millwork in historic homes. That kind of exposure teaches you so much about design, construction, and craftsmanship.

There’s also tremendous value in reading. I came up during a time when the internet was still in its infancy, and books were the go-to resource outside of what you learned in the field. This was long before YouTube, which certainly has its place—but not everything you see online is worth following.

Today, I see a growing overlap between furniture makers and finish carpenters. Many carpenters want to push beyond basic installs and build with quality, developing their skills through more refined work. At the same time, furniture makers are increasingly taking on house work, simply because people are more willing to spend money on their homes than on generational furniture.

In truth, furniture makers need to think more like carpenters, and carpenters would benefit from thinking like furniture makers. That intersection of trades is where some of the best craftsmanship happens.

People often ask me: what trade should I learn, or where should I go to school? Now that the Furniture Institute of Massachusetts is closed, I recommend the North Bennet Street School. Study both carpentry and furniture making. These two trades complement each other, and together, they offer one of the few sustainable paths to making a living in this field.

That said, keep your overhead low. You don’t need the most expensive tools—just quality ones that are reliable and consistent. It’s amazing how much can be accomplished with solid hand skills—and just as much with efficient use of power tools.

As my mentor Phil Lowe used to say, and it still rings true: “Master the hand tools so you know the limitations of the power tools.”

Keep learning. Keep challenging yourself. That’s the way forward.

Woodworking magazines…

 

It still amazes me how informative the old issues of Fine Woodworking are, even after all these years. Fast forward to today, and I find myself rarely interested in the newer issues. I’m not exactly sure why—maybe it’s the writing style, or the depth and complexity the older articles carried.

I also can’t help but roll my eyes at the fact that Phil Lowe was essentially blackballed from Fine Woodworking after writing an article for Popular Woodworking. Ironically, I was the one who encouraged him to explore other publications to draw more interest to the school.

I’m sure Phil would get a kick out of the fact that both Pop Wood and FWW are now under the same umbrella. Hopefully, this leads to better content—because at nearly $90 a year for print and web access, it’s hard to justify the subscription lately.

Shop local and this guy should be the next Norm!

 

I often find it both amusing and frustrating when I see people from their own state say, “I couldn’t find anyone local to make this, so I had to go overseas—or to the West Coast.” Even funnier is when someone says, “This person should have their own show, like Norm Abram and The New Yankee Workshop.”

The truth is, there are plenty of talented local makers who can create exactly what you need—you just chose the easy route and turned to social media instead of actually seeking out local talent.

And as for the “next Norm” comments—let’s cut that out. There’s only one Norm Abram, and there’s a reason no one has been able to fill those shoes. Frankly, I could name 2,000 other craftspeople who are more qualified than the ones usually suggested.

One life!

 

Not everyone is fortunate enough to fall in love with their work—I was. But I also know what it feels like to fall out of love with it. What I never lost, though, was my love for the craft itself. There is a difference between work and craft, and it took time for me to truly understand that.

Falling out of love with the work was painful. It brought me to a crossroads that demanded a difficult choice. I chose to close my shop—not out of failure, but to pause, reflect, and ask myself if the flame still burned within.

Most people don’t realize: I wasn’t a natural talent in this field. My mentor, Master Phil Lowe—a man of few but meaningful words—once looked at a piece I made and said, “We all make primitives, not just masterpieces.” That lesson stuck with me. It reminded me to be proud of my work, but never settle. Never think you’ve “made it.”

Over the years, I worked in cabinet shops, restoration labs, conservation studios, and for private clients and contractors. Two decades in, I realized something was missing. Was it burnout? Was it grief from losing my hero—my mother? Was it the weight of spreading myself too thin, chasing too many paths at once? Maybe it was misplaced trust, or the constant pressure of keeping up with a world that no longer valued the same things.

Hindsight is 20/20. You can’t live in the past—you can only move forward.

So I chose life. I chose my family. I chose to live.

It started with a final conversation with Phil Lowe on his deathbed. He told me, “Legacy is bullshit. The greatest thing you can do is live.” Then came a Mother’s Day conversation with my wife and mother-in-law, just a year after my mom passed. It was a wake-up call—I realized I was sacrificing my health, my body, and my life for a dream that might never come true.

The world has changed. The appreciation for the craft has changed. And I had been adapting for others for far too long. But the truth was, I wasn’t doing the thing I once loved—at least not in the way that fed my soul.

And so the reality hit me: my passion for the work had faded. I wasn’t the same person anymore. But you know what? That’s okay.

Because now I’m healthier. I sleep more. I laugh more. I’m present with my best friend—my partner in life. I’m making things again—not for clients or deadlines, but for me, for my family. And I enjoy it more than ever.

So don’t fear change. Don’t be afraid to close one door and open another. You only get one life. Love it. Live it. And cherish the small moments—because life, in all its imperfection, is far too precious to waste.

Imposter syndrome

 

Imposter Syndrome

When I was a student in furniture-making school, I was surrounded by incredibly skilled and talented peers. I couldn’t help but feel that I didn’t measure up. I often questioned whether I belonged there at all.

I vividly recall a lecture with my mentor about cutting dovetails. In just 5-10 minutes, he effortlessly cut and fit four perfect dovetails. I went to my bench, confident that I could do the same in an hour or two. Six hours later, all I had to show was a piece of wood that looked like it had been gnawed on by a beaver—nothing close to resembling dovetails.

Back then, mastering that hallmark joint seemed essential to becoming a true craftsman. Fast forward 22 years, and now, dovetails are just dovetails. I can cut and fit them as quickly and precisely as my mentor once did.

The lesson I’ve learned is that sometimes, you need to step back and give yourself time. It’s crucial to set goals, but avoid comparing yourself to others. There will always be someone better than you, just as you will be better than others.

Remember, this journey is a marathon, not a sprint. Enjoy the process.

Where can I buy thick veneer?

 Today veneers are often sawn paper thin on automated machines. While this is understandable I also fear the pieces we make won’t last as long as we hoped. This is why sawing your own veneers is a recommend option. 

Below are two example on how veneer was sliced in the old days.

Today I recommend using a bandsaw or buying from certainly wood who offers a thick veneer section on their website. There isn’t a ton of designer options but there is plenty of great material.

Examples from certainly wood website:

Another issue with manufactured sliced veneer being so thin is that the logs are soaked in water for a long time and steam dry heated as they are sawn. This removes a lot of the beauty and color of the wood. But I’ll dive into this much later on another blog post. 

A bandsaw like a delta 14 inch with a 1/2 inch wide blade with 2-4 teeth per inch skip tooth does wonder in resawing solid stock. If you can get air dried lumber the results I believe are even better. Just reminder to set up the bandsaw properly have your jointer and planer tuned up so the veneer can be cleaned up with ease.

Lastly don’t fear trying veneer, it amazing what you can do with wood at 1/16 of inch thick. 

Cheers! 

Veneer thickness these days!

 

 When I got into the trades I remember my mentors complaining how thin veneer was being sawn/sliced. At the time 1/32 veneer became the norm versus 1/28. If you’ve never worked with veneer the 1/32 designation means in 1 inch thick material the veneer manufacturer cuts 32 pieces (1/32 means 32 pieces). Fast forward to today 1/42 is the the standard thickness.

I understand that wood is precious and sadly we as humans have destroyed our Forrest. But I’m also thinking longevity and the future of the pieces made.

Unfortunately at the 1/42 thickness the veneer fractures and tiny cracks appear over time and really there isn’t a great fix for it.

Thicker veneer allows for filling and sanding. At 1/42 in thickness I wouldn’t bother since you will burn through the veneer and hit the substrate quickly.  

This is the reason I believe in sawing my own veneer at 1/16 of an inch or thicker. This thickness allows me to hand plane, scrape, sand, and smile that the future restorers have the ability to fix my furniture/cabinetry. 

Now please understand this process of sawing my own veneer is more time consuming and often mor money. But I’m not just making for the current, but for the future. 

With all that said, there are still amazing makers making pieces with this thickness of veneer. The main difference is that these pieces won’t be abused in the everyday life, but they will be cherished and not used daily. This ensures longevity. 

So think long and hard before you just grab a piece of veneer off the shelf.