Process
First tick, tick, tick as the cutting blade feels for the edge of the wood. The ticks get closer, softer; now steady as the handle of the cutting tool rests against my hip, pressing forward.
A nick, a waver, a skip, and then a groove – always, eventually, a definite groove. And then the delicious moment when the cutting tool glides clear across the platter with an even resistance. Gently swivel the blade flat against the spinning wood and watch the patterns curl away, become uniform in color. A nubbin here, slight correction there and then, quite suddenly, the platter turns true.
First, you feel it. Lay the chisel blade across the edge of a true platter spinning at speed and it settles there unperturbed. Under a gloved hand the wood rumbles with the heat of a gentle friction.
Listen; the whine of wind resistance shifting down as the platter orbits inside its aerodynamic envelope of clean air. The smell, the taste of chips and skirls settling into finer levels of dust.
Mostly you can see it, because it stops. Spin it up and the platter becomes more still, frozen as the moon. At certain times, in certain light and with certain colors of wood and resin, it’s hard to convince myself not to reach out and touch it, lick the spinning lollipop. But it would hurt like hell and, besides, there are tools for that.
A nick, a waver, a skip, and then a groove – always, eventually, a definite groove.
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