Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Learning the Turning Nos. 11 and 12


#11 is just a local hardwood, Ash if I can remember correctly.

#12 is Blackwood, (Acacia Melanoxylon - I remember that from some furniture we bought in Tasmania way back when.)

Blackwood is beautiful.  It's also rather heavy, and I learned that you want to have a slightly larger mortise for the chuck to grip, as it will vibrate a bit if you don't.  This one, while turning the inside, generated a Pa-TWING moment as a piece of it during a catch sailed past my ear and slammed against the sheet steel wall on the opposite side of the workshop. Just a little moment of drama.  Not sure if it was the vibration or just the wood arguing with me, this increasingly-slightly-less-totally-inept wood processor that I am.  Anyway, I love Blackwood.  Who doesn't?

No. 11, in Ash

No. 12, in Blackwood

Friday, April 22, 2016

Learning the Turning #10

And I have absolutely no idea what wood was used here.  


The guys at Pop's Shed who sold me the blank had "CA" written on the bottom.  I suspect that's Camphor, as in possibly Camphor Laurel.  I'll see if I can find out for sure, but for now think of it as "Mystery Wood".

(Edit:  I asked, and it's Cloudy Ash.)

Not quite as happy with this one (although I like the shape -- a bit more subtle than usual) as there are visible catches inside.  You know how I said Rosewood and Banksia are such beautiful woods to turn?  This one is the exact opposite.  Like a fluffy cat you bring home that spits and snarls and looks beautiful while it's eating your DVD collection.  That sort of wood.  

Anyway, it's half-way pretty, so it gets a post.



Thursday, April 21, 2016

Learning the Turning #9

More Banksia

I find it humbling to reflect on just how long it took this organism to build up this grain over time.  I see it not so much as my creating beauty, but simply evoking it.  I've got the easy job.

Several photographs of this piece, because it's a more complex shape.  It seemed I could photograph the shape, or the grain, but not both.  I kind of like this one.


There's still a flared edge, although it's a subtle curve.  
There's more of a stem than is shown at this angle.

Trees in the background are lovely, but show up way too dark.  
I will eventually learn how to take a photograph.

"It's looking at me, dad!"


It's shallower than it looks from here.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Learning the Turning #8

This is a new, small, flared-edge bowl

The wood is Western Australia Swamp Banksia

(Beware the bad, bad Banksia man!*)

It's about 4" across, or about the width of a typical piston in a typical car.  Typically.  Because, lots of you can relate to that, yes?

Not shown in the pic are the regularly-spaced indentations inside, where the "eyes" would be.  All carved out and polished up.  This one I took to 1200 grit, and the Tung oil I used to finish it really darkened up the wood.  Might use orange oil on the next bit of Banksia I turn.  It was a reasonably inexpensive blank (about A$8.00) and I enjoyed turning this one.  The grain has this expanding sunset on one side (not shown, sorry) and is an intriguing thing to hold and stare at.  I will be turning more of this if I find it.



The photo below is per request from A.V.Walters, who wanted to see how the bottom was chucked. The light area is a roughly 1/8 inch indentation, dovetailed in.  The 4-jaw Nova chuck I use expands to fit and holds the bowl securely.

*If you understand that reference, you may need to check your credentials.  Australian?  Highly likely.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Learning the Turning, No. 7

Rather small bowl, Tasmanian Myrtle, flared edge.


One Switch To Find Them All, 

And In The Darkness Light Them.


One thing I did not compromise on at all, was the electricity feeds here.  I called in a properly certified electrician, told him what I wanted -- lots of power points, drive these here machines correctly, huge LED shop lights -- and said build the whole thing to code.

One nice little result of doing it properly, is the breaker next to the door.  Shuts *everything* off.

I remember when very young I had a very cheap arc welder that I ran on 110V in my dad's garage in California.  My arc sputtered and died, and the plug on the wall started throwing a rather large arc.  Did not blow fuses.  I took a chunk of wood and beat the plug out of the socket to kill the arc.

Now I know I'm way too smart to make that sort of mistake again, but because it happened once, I'm really rather glad I've got that whole-of-shop breaker where I can reach it easily -- and on the way out!

Message: Don't bet your house -- use a properly qualified tradesman to do your infrastructure.

Saturday, April 9, 2016

This is my round-thing making thing:



This is my flat-making thing thing:


And the beginnings of a beautiful clutter:


You may note that the wall is tilted relative to the table (and thus, the floor).  When we moved in, I thought - oh, a workshop area!  Concrete floor! Annnd... that's a ten-inch drop from the right to the left, I said to myself, I said.

The Floorist who came out and brought his classy laser level measured things and said "You have a ten-inch -- 10.01" to be exact -- drop from top to bottom there, mate."  I think he used imperial measurements when he picked up my accent. (I'm told I have one).

The floor is 25mm (aye, one inch) thick medium-density particleboard flooring.  It's quite solid.

But I may have to put out a general warning for my CDO friends out there.  The slope of the wall definitely does not match the levelness of the floor, which is quite flat and level indeed.

And for those of you who understand, the bandsaw is called Bandy.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Two earlier bowls

Still learning the turning. 

I think these two were nos. 4 and 5.

I believe the bottom one is Camphor Laurel (possibly Silver Ash) and the top one is Chili Myrtle.



What I hadn't anticipated was just how nice it smells to carve wood on a lathe.  Camphor Laurel smells exquisite.

(That's No. 2 and 3 in the background.  Too ugly to pose for the camera.)

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Rosewood Bowl

Learning the Turning



I am a rank amateur, a beginner, and a long time lover of wood.


A beginner, yes, but I've found an affinity for wood turning that fulfills a deep need to create, in partnership with the grain and the tools and the various components of time, lighting, and effort that turn a cross-section of tree into a cross-section of culture.  

I'm doing okay for a beginner, I think, and this first piece here (actually the sixth bowl I've turned) was well received when I showed it to my friends.  Either they're being unfailingly polite, or there may be something worth pursuing in this.



Rosewood is utterly wonderful to work.  It's hard, has wonderful grain that has a sort of iridescence as you pass the light across the finished work, like the star in a star sapphire.  I can understand why it's found in your better class of guitar fingerboard, like my old Martin D-18.  

This one was turned from a blank screwed to a faceplate to start with,  and with a dovetail recess on the bottom, which I left in place, didn't try to remove once the work was done.  

 Previous bowls were turned with a tenon base (a round extrusion you grip by squeezing in on the Nova chuck's four jaws).  I find this sort of tenon is hard to remove without risking the flatness and straight-up-and-dicular-ness of the resulting work.  With a dovetail recess the chuck's jaws press outward, and the rim is supported by the rest of the blank.  That felt a bit more stable.

I'll try to document my progress a bit more, take a few more photos, and maybe show you a bit of my amateur's workshop from time to time.

In the meantime, I'm on the hunt for more Rosewood.