So I’ve been working on this project.
I got an Ashford Traditional spinning wheel a couple months ago. Me being me, instead of starting off with something easy and approachable like renting a few wheels and taking some classes until I could make an informed choice, I decided I’d just buy one! And not just one off the rack, but a used one! A cheap one that most people would overlook, that I could fix up myself!! And that I’d eventually use to spin whole fleeces from start to finish!!!
And the whole project would have to end up amazing because I am so amazing and ambitious and talented!!!!
Which is how I ended up with an Ashford Traditional that someone had started painting black and ditched halfway through.
Which is understandable. Painting, staining and finishing is painstaking work if you want to do it right. It takes lots of scraping, sanding, care, assembly, disassembly, reassembly, tarping, cleaning, vacuuming and fussing. Not to mention turning things around, a step that didn’t seem to happen here.
Goofy paint job or no, someone enjoyed this wheel, and you don’t need a nice paint job to spin. It’s pretty new and in fantastic shape, and I’m lucky to have it. So over the last couple months I’ve been researching furniture finishing, slowly removing as much of the stain as I can, and probably driving the neighbors crazy with the noise from my little power sander. I did the finish sanding by hand over many nights sitting on the living room floor by the TV and working my way through Parks & Rec with the cat curled up purring on the couch behind my head. By the time I was done the wood was silky smooth to the touch, and the entire living room was blanketed in a thin, fine layer of settled sawdust.
And because I can’t let well enough alone, I decided I didn’t just want to refinish it, I wanted to make it completely!! amazing!!! and would decorate it before applying an all-natural Danish oil. I had plenty of time while I sanded to think about what art I wanted. I finally landed on the work of one of my favorite illustrators, Arthur Rackham, and decided I’d use a wood-burning pen to apply it.
Only thing is, it’s been more than 20 years since I last used one of those. I loved the one I had as a kid, but the usual short attention span of children (plus my undiagnosed ADD) meant my technique had never gotten very far. So every time I picked up my new pen, I’d find another excuse to delay getting started: Maybe I should sand the hand carders again! Maybe I should polish all the metal fittings! Maybe I should google “wood burning tutorial” again! Maybe I should print out copies of the art I want to use, cut it out and arrange the pieces on the wheel so I know where they should go! Maybe I need backup art arrangements!
I am not chicken about crafts by nature, so the second or third time it happened I figured out that oh, duh, I was nervous. By this point, I’d sunk hundreds of dollars and hours into the wheel and I was scared of making it look clumsy and amateurish. So I walked down to my neighborhood’s newly opened craft store — in the last couple years it’s picked up a craft store and fancy ice cream; gentrification is real — and picked out a large basswood box to practice on. It’s perfect: just the right size to hold my hand carders; big enough I can use it as a test run for staining and finishing; and at twenty bucks, cheap enough that mistakes won’t make me cry.
Because I’m gonna make mistakes. They’re inevitable, and learning is just a matter of getting your mistakes out of the way. I’ve already made a couple just doing the first panel of the box. Hot tip (ha!): If you’re trying out a new kind of nib, don’t use it anywhere near detail areas until you know how it works at every angle; and don’t hold the pen at such a low angle that the metal collar scorches a line right through the middle of your deer.
By the time I’m done with this box, I hope to be so damn bored of it that I’m falling all over myself to get started on the wheel.