Anticipation

There has been a whirlwind of emotions around the Toybox over the last few days.  It struck me that this isn’t unusual in woodworking, or anything else which holds our passions.  We hope that same type of passionate emotion is found in work.  Anticipation has been the prevailing emotion, though, this week,   most notably with the addition of a new member to the Toybox family. 

I am the proud new papa of a Puma 60 gallon 3HP vertical air compressor.  Oh goodness, the joy. 

You may ask, why do I need so much air compressor as a simple woodworker?  It’s an easy answer - Anticipation.  I bought my first air compressor when I was 13 years old.  I have no memory of what brand it was but it was red and was a small horizontal model.  Even then, I had dreams of the day I would have a shop where I could plug in air just like I plug in electrical items. 

Anticipation.  I rebuilt that first compressor when the tank rusted out and then years later I bought a new Bostitch pancake compressor and retired old “Red” to a used tool sale my church was having.  Still, I anticipated the day I would be able to have lots of compressed air in my shop.  Last night about 9:00 when Andrew and I were pulling it off the truck, I realized that I was closer than ever before.  But, I’m not fully there yet.  Anticipation continues to hold my attention as I look forward to the moment  it is all plumbed and I can turn it on for the first time.

Part of the joy of woodworking is the anticipation.  The process of getting a new piece of equipment has been wonderful, but even more important is working to plan a project, get materials together, and watch as it moves toward completion. 

I have been working on a little step stool for my daughter.  It isn’t a big project … just something she can use to step up and get things off the high shelves in her dorm room.  But the great part of this project is that while I am working on that step for her, I think about her.  I think about how she will use the stool when I finish it and I wonder if she will think about her dad when she puts her foot up on it.  I wonder if it will be one of those things that moves forward through her life and if a day will come when Meg’s kids ask her where the little stool they use to get cereal out of the cabinet came from. Will it be repainted, modernized, or repaired.  How long will it be part of the ongoing fabric of time?

As many of you know, I have plans to drive the Toybox to a point when at least part of our total income is derived from work I do out there, but I know it will never be a production shop.  It is too important for me to know the person or family I am making something for, because it drives the anticipation of what they will think about it.  After I complete a project, I ask repeatedly how the piece is working and if there are changes that could be made to it.  It is all just part of the creation process for me.

I wonder if the process of creating things in other areas is the same.  Does a quilt maker have the same connection to the person who will use their quilt?  How about a painter? Does an author think about the people who will read the book? What is the level of anticipation for those who create as the complete a project and deliver it to the world?

This might be something magical that comes as part of the woodworking experience. I anticipate a connection that grows as we discuss things you need me to build. Creativity that flows back and forth from the creator to the end user allows each of us to know each other more completely. 

What do you anticipate as you create?