Over the years I’ve had a fantasy. I’d open a shop in some touristy coastal town. The shop would have a big picture window, and I’d have a bench right there and people could watch me carve. They’d walk in and meet the carver, and buy one of the exclusive handmade objects.
There I’d be working away on a portrait of somebodies dream boat. An adoring public gushing appreciation. In the evenings we’d had carving lessons in the back shop. In the winter time the shop would be kept warm with scrap, cutoffs and shavings in the woodstove. Local media outlets would love to stop by and see what was new.
Reality
The dream doesn’t meet the reality. Analysis exposes that lots of my work is standing around cogitating my veritabilites before a flurry of work. I scratch in inconveniant locations, sometimes. The shop is cluttered and not photogenic.
Rents are high in communities like that. I’d have to sell more than my carvings to make ends meet, and that would make me a shop keeper rather than a carver. I’d be tied to my shop unless I had someone to stand in while I went down the street to have a coffee and bagel. And of course being the gluttons for attention that they are the cats would sleep in the window, and garner all the attention.
The dream derives from the early days of doing boat shows when I would bring tools, a portable bench and demonstrate. I stopped doing that because people would see me working, and not want to interrupt – lost sales. Then there were the people who couldn’t keep their hands off the tools. I was afraid someone would get cut.
The worst visitors were those with crackpot ideas, “I want a nude figurehead of my wife carved, but make her chest larger!” or ” Carve me a dome shaped helmet with angels on it! My budget is fifty dollars.” So I left the tools at home, and tended to shop at the shows. I made a good bit more money. But I still had some strange requests for custom carved items. The sex toys were the worst. And no, I never carved any!
Still and all the shop is a nice little fantasy. Anyway, enough lallygagging, back to work.
Discover more from Louis N. Carreras, Woodcarver
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Sorry, but sex toys? I don’t think I want to share what my mind conjures. I hope I can forget it.
You will notice that I did not go into details. And they were specific.
Yeeek!!!!
And she was very specific about what she wanted, too.
This is terrifying. I hope copious amounts of varnish were involved…
A rubbed oil finish.
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
When working with the public I guess you could expect anything.
And you get it!