The new guitar is getting a French polish. Shellac and a wad of cotton wrapped up in a t-shirt scrap traveling over the surface of the wood in tiny figure eights. With a little boy running around it can be difficult to focus, but this task seems to demand all of the attention it deserves. The result is so uniform and shiny. And deep. It’s like the wood blooms right there as the shellac coats it. The colors change and the detail is more pronounced. It’s hard to ignore the beauty in what has been dubbed a labor intensive process.
Like sanding, where a little material is removed with each pass, the polishing action adds a little at a time. It’s precision work. It would be easy to space out and miss something or ignore a finer detail, but the meditative nature of such a task provides focus. For me, it’s easy to achieve flow in these moments. When the coat is complete and the shellac needs time to cure or when more needs to be made, getting up from my chair feels good. I’m rested. My mind is clear. I feel refreshed.
By the weekend I should be ready to glue on the neck and mount the bridge. I can shape and prepare the nut. The instrument may even be strung and playable by the beginning of next week. Then it’s back into the studio for some recording and back to the drawing board to lay out the next guitar. I wish I could imagine a better pass time, but I can’t.
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