It Was an Accident - Creating a Body of Work Part 1

Valet tray in orchard walnut with epoxy

Two salt cellars, a pencil box with a sliding lid, a decorative box with a laser etched lid, one tiny cheese board, a valet tray, and a coffee table. 

It all started with the coffee table. Over the ladder half of winter, spring, and summer of 2025 I accidentally created a body of work.

You may be saying, “You mean to tell me that you accidentally spent months working on a series of projects.” 

To which I would reply, “Uhhh yeah — whoops,” while giving an animated shrug.  

Poplar box with laser engraved lid

As an intentional person, a planner, a schemer, I wouldn’t believe it myself if someone told me I accidentally created a body of artwork. Though, as a romantic, as an obsessive individual — absolutely, yes I would believe it all day. And that’s what happened. I fell in love (infatuation?) with wood and became obsessed. 

Like I mentioned, I built a coffee table. It was a romantic gesture (see we are coming back around already) for my partner, we’d been living together for some time and did not have a coffee table or anything else to place our cups and clutter on in our modest living room. Since the space is small and everything affordable in the furniture department is bullshit and comes unassembled in a box I set out to make the “love table” a small handmade, hardwood table that was visually interesting, an heirloom of our own. 

The process of learning and building the love table was not easy, and half of the time, not fun either. You can read more about my giving in to the process of woodworking in a previous essay, “Letting Go of Perfection.”  

Months into the project, when the love table was complete, I felt a sense of confidence that was undeniable. I felt powerful and unstoppable as though I could make anything and so I set out to hone my newest budding skillset.  

Pencil box with sliding lid in orchard walnut

The next week, in a passionate fury I drove to the hardwood dealer along the highway into town. After getting a tip that they sold cheap off cuts, small hunks of wood that didn’t make the cut to go onto the floor as part of a plank, I began digging around their bins. With stars in my eyes, I became submerged in a roll cart of orchard walnut, dazzled by the contrasting tones and grainy swirls, seeing the boxes and cutting boards they could become — petting and cooing at each piece like a precious newborn needle-toothed kitten.  

The man at the counter charged $12 for my bounty when I was ready to leave, which I handed over without objection high on the fumes of fervent glee. 

A petite cheese board in cherry

There was one caveat - I had to use up my box of wood scraps by the end of the summer. See, I had also just heard news that I had been admitted to attend Portland State University in the fall which meant my days of woodworking were numbered. Between school and work, my time for hobbies would be limited if not nonexistent. 

For the next five months I showed up at the woodshop’s open hours session every week. Working slowly, learning from mistakes, treating the work as play. The goal was to understand how to make, period, not necessarily make the most beautiful items. While the items I was producing were functional at best, I celebrated the completion of each piece like it was one of my children receiving a participation award. 

Salt cellars in orchard walnut

One of the things I love about the collection items I made during my time at the woodshop is that I can see my mistakes, like the chunk the dato took out of one of the rabbited lids. I can see where I grew in my execution and which habits or techniques need reenforcing. I can see the thought processes I was going through during the various steps of the creation process. What I really love about the collection — I can see all my wins. Each piece of this body of work is a small win that together created a big win. 

Embracing the natural flaws of the orchard walnut offcuts

Creating a body of work is important for artists and makers that want to be able to earn income and notoriety from their creations. It’s proof you know what you’re doing, proof you are serious. Evidence of intention. Which makes it feel kinda funny that I created this particular body of work unintentionally. 

Be sure to join me for the next installment on October 5,  as we dive deeper into why creating a cohesive body of work is an important step in the careers of artists and makers.  

In the comments, share with about the creative projects you started this summer.