This Ancient Japanese Idea Changed My Craft

Lately, I've been thinking about how hard it is to slow down right now. And maybe that's part of why I keep coming back to woodworking. Because when I'm working with a piece of wood, none of that seems to matter very much. The wood grain doesn't care how productive I've been today, it only asks that I pay attention. After more than a decade of chasing perfection in my work, there's a Japanese idea that I always end up coming back to. While it's often portrayed as an aesthetic, it's truly something much deeper than that, and it's changed how I make things. The first thing is, you can't fake wabi-sabi. Because wabi-sabi isn't just an aesthetic, it's a process, and unforced. There's something hidden inside the meaning of it, something that has to happen before the beauty can truly exist. Time. Objects have to live. A cabinet door softening where it's touched every day, a small chip on the edge of a table from years of use, the subtle wear that only happens through living with something. That's where the feeling truly comes from. Not just the imperfection itself, but the story behind it. When I was in my apprenticeship, I was learning how to make furniture at the highest level. Everything had to be precise, perfect, polished. There was no room for mistakes. And I'm genuinely grateful for that experience. It taught me discipline, patience, and craftsmanship. But the pressure of trying to achieve perfection all the time slowly started to take a toll on me. Every tiny mistake felt heavy. Every imperfection felt like failure. So when I eventually came across the ideas behind wabi-sabi, it completely changed how I viewed making. Not careless, not sloppy, but still human. It made me realize that the warmth we feel from old buildings and furniture isn't just fake character. It was because of all of the life in them. The stories of people's hands and the life they pour into them. When I started thinking about this more deeply, it changed how I viewed woodworking altogether. I stopped trying to make things look perfect forever. Instead, I started thinking about how they would age. I became more interested in finishes that allow wood to breathe and change naturally over time. A hand-planed surface, or kanna-shiage, for example, reflects light differently as it slowly wears in. It develops character gradually, and gives wood the best chance of telling the story of the tree without covering it with plastic or using harsh chemicals. And I started caring even more about longevity. Because if a piece is ever going to carry meaning through time, it has to survive long enough to get there. So when making things out of wood, the best way to make it last a long time is all wood joinery. The buildings in Japan that are made this way have lasted hundreds of years. And for furniture, pieces from Ming-era China are unparalleled in their craftsmanship. And I refer to them quite often to see how they were constructed. This way of working takes a lot more thought and effort. But for me, it's the longevity it returns. I also stopped fighting every small imperfection. Because the truth is, humans are imperfect. We don't move with machine precision. And sometimes those tiny irregularities are exactly what makes something feel alive. A slight variation in the surface, a subtle asymmetry, a tool mark left behind. I think that's part of why handmade objects affect us emotionally. You can feel the life inside them. So instead of trying to create wabi-sabi, I think the goal is to make things capable of becoming it. Objects that are built with care. Objects that can age with grace. And objects that can carry the marks of a life well lived. Wabi-sabi contains many things that are hard to understand. But I think this intention can give our work a feeling that is hard to explain. But can be felt. And these hidden qualities in wood that have the ability to express and affect human emotion, they're always there. Waiting. It's up to us to bring them out through skill, patience, and thoughtful care over time. Thank you so much for watching this video. I really appreciate your support. I've got to meet so many of you in my classes, and it's always been such a pleasure. If this type of craft interests you, I have various resources at my website, as well as classes in my personal studio. And for those who aren't able to make it in person, I have an online version as well. I'll take you from not ever touching a tool, to actually building your first project with Japanese hand tools. Links in the description below.