Carving a Celtic Knot

1. Lay out the design on your workpiece and define the outer and inner edges of the shape with chisels and gouges. I shaded the "under" parts of the knots with pencil so that I didn't accidentally cut across the "over" parts.

2. Match curves with gouges that have the same sweep.

3. Bevel down, remove the background areas that surround the shape. I used both chisels and gouges for this and tried to maintain a consistent depth of cut. Don't fret too much if it's not perfect; you'll have another shot at it as you're finishing the carving.




4. My 1/16" chisel got a work out along the outer edges.

5. I used dental tools to pick out some obstinate chips. These tools are cheap and your dentist may even give you some of his/her worn-out ones*. You can reshape the cutting edges to meet your needs.

6. Bevel up, I removed the pencil-shaded areas of the drawing with a tapered slice—starting at the high point (the "over" knot) and slicing downward toward the pencil shading—but did not cut as deep as the background areas. Once all the pencil-shaded areas (the "under" knots) are removed, the woven design emerges. You can stop at this point if you like a more hard-edged look. And here's where you can tweak the depth of the background area. Since parts of the design have been made more shallow, you have easier access.


7. If you prefer, you can round over all the edges with chisels and gouges to create a rope-like effect.

8. The finished design.

9. My neck started hurting as I was hunched over the workpiece, which was lying flat on my workbench. Then I rememberd a drill press jig I had made for another project. It worked amazingly well at positioning the board at a comfortable angle. No more pain, and carving became a complete joy. Of course, I was almost finished with the design when I remembered the jig....


*I needed dental tools for a class taught by Steve Latta. Steve suggested that we ask our dentists for his/her throw-aways. So I called my dentist's office and rather than give the receptionist a long explanation, I merely asked if I could buy any of their used dental tools. "Hold on," she said. Moments later, "NO!" and she hung up. I figured she thought I was planning to pull a Hannibal Lecter on someone and freaked out. At my next appointment with my dentist I told him what happened. "Oh, that was you?! That phone call was the talk of the office!" His response confirmed my Hannibal Lecter suspicions. And it totally made my day.

Fledgling Relief Carver

I'm new to relief carving. At left is my first attempt, thanks to a tutorial in Richard Bütz's book How to Carve Wood. In it are chapters on tools, sharpening, woods & finishes, design, whittling, chip carving, relief carving, wildlife carving, lettercarving (he uses a different technique than I do), and architectural carving. There are lots of photos and illustrations that clearly explain his process.

All I knew about relief carving before reading his book was that the same principle in lettercarving—where you carve from shorter grain to longer grain, so the wood you are cutting is supported underneath the cut—still applies. This reduces tearout. However, tearout can still result from dull tools.

This October, I'm traveling to Juarez, Mexico with a group from my church where we'll build a home in 3 days for an impoverished family. 3 days! And this includes pouring concrete. The organization that sponsors these home-builds has it down to an art, so I trust we'll finish in time.

A Presbyterian church in El Paso, Texas is cooking meals for us while we're there and I wanted to give them something in return for their hospitality, so I plan to carve a Celtic cross. This will be a challenge for me, so I'm starting now—well in advance of our departure date.

That way, if all I create is fireplace fodder, there's still time to order them a gift.

2 Workbench Jigs

I'll admit it. I was a Normite. In fact, it was Norm Abram who taught me how to use power tools. At a time when there seemed to be very few female woodworkers (16 years ago), it was a tad bit intimidating to ask for assistance in a woodworking store full of men. But good 'ol Norm was there to give me my first push down the slippery slope of woodworking.

Then about 10 years ago, I became interested in working with handtools. Now I use a blended workshop.

But to all of us—power tool, hand tool, or blended woodworkers—don't we all share an irrepressible and magnetic attraction to workbenches?

My conundrum as a beginner handtool user was: How do you use a workbench? How do you make the most of it? What part of the tail vise is used to clamp stock?

The answers were found in books like The Workbench Book, Making Workbenches, and Choosing and Using Handtools (among others). And with the recent release of Chris Schwarz's book, we have another fabulous resource.

Books like these disclose the importance of bench jigs. Pictured are a cut off jig for dowels and a planing stop. The cut off jig has a roughly chiseled V-groove that holds a dowel in place, and a piece of wood glued beneath the front edge that acts as a bench hook. The planing jig has through-tenoned dowels that drop down into holes that are bored into my benchtop. Both jigs see a lot of use in the shop.

Once I learned how to use a workbench, how to make the most of it, how to build and employ bench jigs, it opened up a whole new dimension in woodworking. And the slippery slope became a whole lot steeper.

Woodworking in the Movies

David Finck designed and built the box at right as a prop in an upcoming movie entitled Nights in Rodanthe, set for release in October. The movie stars Richard Gere and Diane Lane, whose character dabbles in woodworking. David was commissioned to not only supply props, but to instruct Diane Lane in woodworking techniques, including handcutting dovetails and handplaning.

You can see the movie trailer here: http://nightsinrodanthe.warnerbros.com/

I'm curious whether Diane comes across as a legitimate woodworker or if she's as believable as Paris Hilton portraying a brain surgeon. But because I'd just as soon pluck my eyebrows with a chainsaw than go see a barfy romance movie, I'll ask that if any of you would be willing to take one for the team, suffer through the viewing, and then email me your opinion....I'd be indebted. No, really.

Buggy Factory

Saturday we took a trip to "Buggy Town". Mifflinburg, PA was home to more than 80 buggy shops in the 19th c. with one, purportedly the only one in the U.S,. still intact: W. A. Heiss Coachworks.

I had hoped to see a collection of carriagemaker planes at the museum, but there were none. There was, however, the only treadle-powered table saw I had ever seen. It looked homemade with an odd-shaped, adjustable fence and a fixed board in front of the blade whose purpose befuddled me. I suppose it was used as a stop.

There were some handsome buggys on display, some with fancy paint jobs. The finishers in the factory were commissioned with the most egregious portion of the assembly, not only because applying the finish was so difficult, but because they had to work in an unventilated room on the second floor of an unheated, unairconditioned, uninsulated, wooden warehouse. They had to keep the windows closed while they worked to prevent dust from settling on the finish. 8-10 hour days/6 days a week. Suddenly, my job doesn't look so bad.

The woods used in the buggys' construction were: poplar and pine for the body; oak for the undercarriage; and hickory for the spokes and wheels.

In the last photo, you can see the brake pad pressing against the rear wheel. I asked our guide what they were made from and she said anything from wood to fabric to leather to shoes. And that, she said, is where the term "brake shoes" comes from.

Of course, she may have been pulling my leg....
or my New Balance.

Creative Thinking

How the heck did he/she come up with that?

That’s what goes through my mind when I peruse woodworking books that feature original designs. That...and maybe I should turn in my woodworking badge.

A friend who took a furniture design class was taught to brainstorm by sketching ideas and then constructing small-scale models with foam core, hot glue, paper, cardboard, and wood. The instructor pointed him towards nature for inspiration. Flip the piece upside down, he suggested, consider the negative space, the angles, the lines. Look at it from all angles. How does your eye follow the design? Why do you like a particular design or feature? Does a piece have to be square and level? Must a table have 4 legs, 3 legs?

My friend was taught to think outside the box.

In Robin Landa’s book Thinking Creatively (a graphic design book), she lists design principles pertaining to the relationship among elements that, I believe, parallel woodworking: balance, unity, hierarchy, rhythm, and contrast. I’ll add scale, proportion, and pattern.

As woodworkers, we have at our disposal loads of inspiring books that showcase styles from period to ultra-modern. But I think we can also find inspiration from other disciplines including sculpture, painting, fashion, and architecture.

I’m horrible at coming up with original woodworking designs and I’d like to find more exercises for unlocking creativity. One thought is to take a sketchbook along with you. Anything that catches your eye—a doorway, the curve of a leaf, a bridge’s framework, a feather boa—jot it down. I suggest sketchbook rather than camera because you’re immediately forced to make your own interpretation.

That’s the only excercise I’ve come up with. If anyone else would like to offer procedures or books that help with thinking outside the box, chime right in!

Photos are from 400 Wood Boxes: The Fine Art of Containment & Concealment.
Photo 1: Brian McLachlan
Photo 2: Ray Jones
Photo 3: Terry Evans

Krenov Style Planes

I was taught to make Krenov style handplanes by David Finck, a man whose work I so admire, he could tell me that chocolate-covered dog poo makes a superb finish and I'd believe him.

David wrote the book "Making & Mastering Wood Planes" (pricey because it's out of print, but if you write David, he will let the publisher know they are in demand). His book is not only a recipe for making planes, it covers: tuning your bandsaw and several handtools; sharpening techniques; making a grinding jig, a routing jig, a small hammer, & a sharpening stone cradle; planing techniques & planing jigs; and more.

The body of the Krenov style planes consists of two side pieces, a front piece, and a back piece. Because they are laminated, it makes construction easier than planes constructed with a solid chunk of wood. Two other pieces, a wedge and a pin, which holds the wedge and iron in place, complete the plane.

David sells plane irons on his site that take a long time to sharpen but which hold an edge for a very long time.

The most difficult part in making these planes, at least for me, is opening the throat. You must be patient, because it's easy to remove too much wood and create too wide an opening for shavings. Two benefits of a thin opening are less chance of tearout and a smoother finish. However, your iron must be extremely sharp, otherwise the shavings will jam up.

The second most difficult part is fitting the wedge. It must contact the pin, ideally along the entire width of the wedge, but at least must contact the outer edges of the wedge. This ensures your iron will be held firmly in place.

David wrote an article in Fine Woodworking issue #196 that gives you an overview of building a plane. So if you aren't able to find David's book, you can at least read his article.

One more thing...David recommends oil, shellac, or nothing as a finish for the planes. Not dog poo.

Handcarved Star

To carve a star, follow the basic principles in lettercarving. For this technique, you only need a straight chisel and a mallet (not even a mallet, if you push hard enough to make your stop cuts). And you'll make life easier on yourself if you create a star where any two points share a common wall—a straight line drawn from point to point.

In the illustration above, the dashed lines are low spots, the valleys, where you will make the stop cuts.

This star is 1.875" diameter, so I'm using a 20mm straight chisel: small enough to manage but large enough that the width of the blade is wider than the deepest cut and almost as wide as the stop cut is long.

First, define the stop cuts. They should not be deep as the final depth of cut and should taper to nothing at the star's points. Bevel up, start at any point and ease the chisel into the cut, gradually slicing deeper as you reach center, then easing up again as you approach the opposite point. Here is the advantage of two points sharing a common wall: with one cut, you have established one of the two walls on each of two spurs of the star.

Keep an eye on the grain direction to avoid tearout and work your way around the star. You should not try to remove the waste in one slice, but ideally two (I've never mastered this). With subsequent passes, be sure to lay the chisel's back flat against the wall created in the first slice to ensure a clean, single facet, wall.

Remove stubborn pieces by continuing the slicing method and/or by sliding the chisel directly downward into the valleys.

In the photo at right, you can see tearout on the upper right spur. Slicing with the grain is most difficult and tearout means you should cut in the other direction. I cleaned it up fairly well with very light paring slices. Not perfect, but no one will inspect your work as closely as you (or another woodworker!) will.

If the spurs do not meet in the middle, that means the walls' angles are not consistent and you'll have to carefully pare the shallower walls to match the sharpest-angled walls.

I'ts easier than you might think to carve a star, but it's a design element that prompts admirers to say "nifty!"