With all the flooding taking place throughout our island, the transport systems are under even greater pressure in the country. Despite warnings to stay put, people traveled and then, of course, there are those who were already en route to somewhere who were just caught up in it. Many modes of transport have stopped running altogether for different reasons linked to the storm. With unusual white caps on the rivers and lakes and the closure of even Dover port itself, a rare happening, we’ll have to see what happens when the storm subsides over the next couple of days. My travel plans changed yesterday and I arrived home safely as the storm came to land. I’m thankful we took no hits damage wise. We’ve had an unseasonable amount of rain this fall and winter. The Thames seems constantly high. I am glad I don’t live on the river’s boats as many do.
What’s this to do with woodworking? Nothing at all. Just thought you might like to know I am not always in the workshop. I like to drive. Daytime, nighttime, any time. But of course, if you’re keeping up with me I am not taking to the car automatically anymore. I am trying not to use it except where necessary. I think that this is my 9th use of it in the last 35 days. Before that, it was daily. Yesterday was necessary.
Often as I travel I plan future things I’ll make. An idea comes to me when I see a blank sheet of paper in my mind’s eye. An idea comes to me when I see a floor, two walls and a ceiling meeting together in the same mind. The empty space is an opportunity for a designed piece of woodwork to come together. I have almost always formed joints in my mind before the wood even comes up.
I see a pile of mixed woods, a piece of waney edged yew or some chestnut and my mind fills with a riot of coloured woods culminating in a piece of furniture. I sketch without a pencil and speak notes to myself as I travel north. In a northern pub waiting for lunch in Stockport, I hear a hundred voices all speaking with the same accent I have. I tune in and out of the conversations, filter out the dull and latch on to the interesting ones. I here the words wood and plane and saw across the room, turn, and someone nods to me. “Paul Sellers!” he mouths. I give a thumbs up and he carries on talking to his friends. They look round, give me a thumbs up, and my meal arrives piping hot. No ceremony, just a friendly “Hi’ from some fellow woodworkers in the middle of a 340-mile round trip to see my daughter and her family in my home town.
Now it’s Monday!