I’m currently hunched over a 1920s mahogany vanity in my Portland workshop, carefully scraping away layers of cracked lacquer with a cabinet scraper. The smell of old wood and beeswax is everywhere, and I’m just waiting for the first coat of tung oil to soak in so I can see the grain truly wake up. My hands are covered in fine dust, so I’ve stepped away for a quick breather and to check in here while the workshop settles. It’s slow, honest work that requires a lot of heart.