Finishing the Finish

Wood is a wonderful material: it has direction which can be surprising and pleasing – parts which show the strength gained by adapting to strong winds, as well as seasonal temperature changes. Individual trees may vary in coloration caused by the absorption of particular minerals. They display evidence where they fight against disease or decay. Trees are like us and working with wood can provide insights about our own lives.

When you work with wood to fashion a product, generally the first step is to make a rough shape, which is gradually refined. The surface of the wood is smoothed and a finish is applied. Typically, the first layer of a finish is sanded back to the original surface to fill the pores and provide an “optic surface”, where light is evenly reflected. Next, thin layers of separate finish may be built up over time. While there are many types of finish – each with its own discipline – a rule of thumb is to always place a softer finish over a harder finish. Sometimes, this is referred to as “finishing the finish”. It involves either minutely scoring the surface to achieve a bond with each additional application – or choosing a finish which ‘melts’ into the preceding layer.

I attended a lecture and demonstration with Richard Raffan, a world famous woodturner. He advocated a process where a finished piece is refreshed continually with just a drop of oil, rubbed into the wood on a continual basis. Over a year (or many years) the patina is incomparable. His point: a finish built up over time displays a luster which stands out from a piece finished in haste and neglected.

Again, I find a lesson in this analogy. Our substance and grain pattern are influenced by the type of wood we are, as well as the environment in which we grow. We are roughly shaped and then refined by experience. We spend a lot of our time ‘finishing the finish’, adding protective layers and creating our own personal patina. And that luster is what we have learned and put to good use.

I find that there is no benefit to rushing the process of patina. The aspects of life that mean the most to me are the areas where I have spent the most effort in practicing and developing life skills. Like layers of film, each succeeding year adds to the finish. Setbacks and mistakes can cause damage and rework, but that is part of the process. It highlights the need for continuous renewal of the ‘finish’ – and a strong reason to apply myself to the work, even as energy and ability wane.

Are the things you treasure most, hard won over time?

Here’s an excerpt from a poem by Justin Farley: One Step at a Time (from alongthebarrenroad.com)

“…Life is one continuous climb.
Each day one step closer to
the potential written in your heart.
No need for giant leaps
or desperate measures destined for defeat,
but Ed 4 you must find somewhere to start.
Progress comes to those who push onward,
planting seeds even when tired
and a day off is a tempting reward.
For excuses quickly become reasons
to idly watch months go by
without a step forward.
It’s the small choices you make
compounded over a lifetime
that leave you in the plains or push you to the peak.
At the end of life’s journey,
the number of seeds you’ve sown
determines the character you reap.”

The Finishing Never Finishes

When I first read Wally’s topic I was totally unable to think how i could respond to it.  He has experience working with wood and using various techniques to make the wood come into its own.  With his work and patience he turns the raw wood into a beautiful, useful article or simply a beautiful work of art.  I have no such talent, nor do I work with any raw material over which I have any knowledge or ability to improve, make it a work of art or turn it into a functional tool for me to use.  When we first started our blog Wally made each of us a beautiful pen, perfectly formed, smooth and shiny surface, almost too beautiful to use for fear of somehow carelessly damaging it. I display this pen proudly in my pen holder on my desk alongside a collection of stolen writing utensils from various banks, restaurants, inns and anywhere I see an attractive writing tool , but none of those shine through the way Wally’s does in my holder.  I have to admit when I am with my kids and they see a pen they think will attract my attention, they hurry out of the establishment not wishing to be embarrassed by their father.  Kind of funny after years of dealing with embarrassment over their antics, but that is for another blog entry.

So I stewed over how I was going to respond.  For days I tried to find something I did as a hobby or practice that could fit into the category of Wally’s wood working and kept coming up with blanks.  A week went by and even some lack of sleep trying to appreciate some raw material that I was familiar with.  I read Wally’s piece over and over hoping suddenly something would pop and I would find my inspiration of how to respond, and actually that is exactly what happened.  I was reading this on face value.  Suddenly the word metaphor popped into my mind and as I read his piece once more it became so obvious.  He actually already wrote about it as a metaphor.  The ideas finally started flowing and I knew it was what I had to write about .  It all had to do with being a teacher for 35 years.  My material, which had always been in the back of my mind wasn’t wood but rather students.  So many similarities between wood and students.  When I thought about it the similarities became stronger.

The raw material came from all different environments. With some it was  obvious to see that this individual object had come from a very difficult and harsh environment, while another may have come from a loving, caring environment, and every other possible circumstance you could imagine.  The finishes that would be applied to these human objects would be applied slowly and to various successes over 12 years and continue on ad infinitum until the final project was almost complete. Unfortunately or maybe luckily, these applied finishes would be adjusted over the years by the various finishers whose job it was to do just that.  But with this natural resource the process went on throughout life perhaps never to end until the end!!  You have to evaluate how the last finish was applied, determine whether it was an improvement to the original or needed correction as it passed through the years and as the finishers applied their finishes systematically year after year.  But the process never stops.  We never seemed to be able to finish the finishes!

Today, I am a retired finisher.  Not often enough, I have the distinct pleasure to share a meal or a drink with some of my pieces.  I look and study them across the table to see if I can see any of the finish I applied, and the times I can see my effect on them it brings a warmth to my heart and a pride in my ability to have been able to contribute to the completion of this beautiful work of art… my students!

With Time Comes Treasure

I’ll begin my response where Wal ended his post: “Are the things I treasure most hard-won over time?”

Not always.

I once treasured the nearly two miles of trails I created—through much sweat, sore muscles, and even a bit of blood—on my property in New York. I don’t remember exactly how long it took to complete them, but they were definitely hard-won. Although those trails are no longer mine, I still carry them in my inner treasure box.

I also value the accomplishments of my career. For me, reaching those milestones involved hard work: countless hours of thinking, researching, planning, revising, and practicing. However, my consulting work in later years was invigorating, engaging, and interesting. I did it because I wanted to, not because I needed to. Something I treasured, for sure.  According to Merriam-Webster, the first definition of work is “activity that a person engages in regularly to earn a livelihood.” By this definition, my consulting work wasn’t actually work even though it required perseverance and significant effort.

My current home, which I consider a gift in my life, took almost three years to find. The psychological and emotional efforts of living in a temporary apartment and avoiding opportunities that would take me away from the area certainly qualified as hard. Clearly, this is another example of what Wal’s question addresses.

However, it seems to me that the day-to-day things I treasure—relationships, daily routines, enjoying nature, engaging in playful activities, reading a compelling book, and having exciting conversations—aren’t necessarily hard-won and often happen spontaneously. Reflecting on this, I realize that it was the satisfaction I felt at the end of each hour or day working on the trails that I treasures most, more than their actual use. Similarly, it wasn’t just putting together workshops and activities for my consulting gigs that I found rewarding, but also the ideas and insights I gained from the material.

Being fully engaged in an activity or conversation is now more treasured by me than working hard for the future. Perhaps this perspective arises because my future grows shorter with each passing day, or perhaps it’s because I’ve slowed down enough to realize that all we really have is the present moment. 

But how did I get to this place of understanding and perhaps wisdom?  Living a life hard-won over time!

“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.” – Thornton Wilder