A Reflection on Epoxy Resin.

My first introduction to using epoxy resins was in my high school woodworking class. I recall it very well. I was working on tenon joints for my pine bedside table. An ambitious classmate of mine had chosen the hardest project in that class. It was an outside picnic bench with seats (just like the ones that you would typically see just shy of a popular beach or to the side of a beautiful wilderness trail). In all likelihood, I probably would’ve taken on this project if the timber that was available had been in better condition. The available wood, although stored appropriately and had little bows or warps, was peppered with deep cracks and gouges and a rough surface that would’ve taken many, many hours to sand relatively smooth.

As a teen still learning the basics, I thought it would serve its purpose as a comfortable place for students to eat their sandwiches, chat and fool around during lunch breaks. But that ambitious classmate saw something in those lengths of wood that I didn’t. As the weeks, possibly months, passed, when the ‘A’ frames had been bolted together, the table and seat planks fastened to the frames, I truly began to see the problems that faced him. The gouges went so deep that no amount of aggressive planning and meticulous sanding would fix them.

‘How could they possibly find a solution that would fill these voids without making this table worse?’, I remember thinking to myself. But he didn’t look worried at all. In fact, he looked at the defects as if there was no problem at all. It was when I saw him come out with a respiratory mask and two large jugs of epoxy resin that my eyebrows rose. Right up to this point, I had no idea that epoxy could be used on wood. That’s when my view of this project started to gradually change, but I was still very much sceptical about how well the finish would turn out (He hadn’t used any colours or micas in the resin, therefore any defects within the resin would be clearly visible in the finished product).

It wasn’t until the final finish was applied that my perceptions of this project changed. The glossy vanish was applied very evenly across the entire piece. The epoxy-filled gouges were so clear, so see-through that you could easily see into the deepest parts of the underlying wood. As I type this memory into my blog, I can’t help but to be reminded of the traditional Japanese technique of fixing ceramics with gold (Kintsugi or  Kintsukuroi). It’s truly amazing how such a perceived blemish can be transformed into a thing of beauty.   

For me, this memory carries three important lessons. The first is never to judge a book, or in this case, wood slabs, by its cover. The second is to never presume that you know absolutely everything there is to know about a subject. To this day, I’m still learning better ways of doing things in the workshop. The third, and probably the most profound, is never be afraid to take on projects that sit just outside your comfort zone. Some of life’s greatest achievements live in the unknown.  

Once again, thanks so much for reading.