So we're strolling along at a crafts show, checking out the wares. We were there to buy a gift or two, but the conversation had turned to whether I should exhibit at one of these shows, what that would be like, what it would entail. Feasible? Worthwhile? Foolhardy?
We came to a potter's booth. I'm not interested in ceramics; my glazed eyes usually wander over glazed items with little enthusiasm. But this was different. This artist was talented, for sure. Really good. Even I could see that. Everything was expertly thrown, fired to perfection - imaginative, colorful, witty.
"I don't know," he answered, shrugging. This refreshing response merited an incisive follow-up.
"Well, then, what does it do?" (Incisive, it turns out, I'm not.)
Another shrug. He shook his head apologetically, bent down to peer at the object, and examined it carefully, as if seeing it for the first time. He seemed genuinely puzzled.
"I really don't know...," he murmured, staring at it, then looked up at me expectantly.
I didn't know either.
Sharpening technique? Mine changes daily. Finishing schedule? Ditto. Is white glue better than yellow glue? Japanese chisels better than western ones? Sawstop safety worth the extra money?
And, as for design, well, if we talk about it, you have to promise not to laugh...