A Letter of Intention
Hello, friend. Welcome to my workshop. I'm so glad you're here! A workshop is a sacred space of sorts. A space where objects, materials, bits and ends come to be transformed into a new life. A space where the worker, in working, comes for much of the same. I feel that is very much my story, and I know I am not alone in this. I came to woodworking after more than ten years of chasing a career in film. Mind you, I was pretty good at what I did. But over time it felt less and less genuine. Despite it being a creative field, I saw no real future in it and it was taking more than it was giving.
Meanwhile, I had been doing some ancestral work and working on re-learning (unlearning) my history. I was born in Puerto Rico but moved to the US when I was eight—just old enough to know where I was from but not old enough to have the any understanding of what that meant. Add to that physical separation from my culture and centuries of colonial erasure, and you can be sure that there was a lot of work to do. Openly welcoming my Taino (indigenous) and African roots as well as my Spanish background led me to an exploration of Latin percussion, which was a sharp deviation from my upbringing in classical Eurocentric music... and this led me to Bomba.
Bomba changed everything. The sound of our oldest folkloric music hit deep and opened me up. It challenged me to listen to my intuition and forced me to see how unhappy I was in my choices. It taught me that honoring my joy was the truest way to honor my ancestors. Much like Bomba, woodworking has beckoned me since I was very young, but with my misinformed ideas of who I was allowed to be, I was convinced that it was not mine to claim.
Long story long, I made the bold and possibly imprudent decision to drop everything for a more sustainable life. From the beginning these are the words that I have wanted to keep at the center of my vocation: sustainable, authentic, safe, grateful, connected. To me, that's what a good piece of furniture, or hand-crafted tool for the home, does best. It connects us, much like the food we savor from a bowl, or the conversations we share over a table with family, chosen or otherwise.
Currently I am finishing up my Fine Furniture Craftsman certificate at the Fine Woodworking Department at Red Rocks Community College. It's been an incredible journey full of growth as both a woodworker and as a person. It has also been made evident to me that in the woodworking world, as in many artistic worlds, there is a starkly Eurocentric view about what Fine Woodworking is, and a general disregard for the contributions and influences from other cultures. My path into woodworking being what it was, I feel a sense of duty to honor my heritage and to challenge that microcosmic perspective of our beautiful and varied craft as organically as possible in every piece.
My designs and my process are both deeply founded on the values that led me here. While there is certainly a place for power tools in the shop, the center of my work exists in the hand tool. I find a truer connection with my intention when working in this way, a chance for conversation with the material that commands a higher level of respect for the magnificent tree. Hand tool work also leaves a significantly smaller carbon footprint, and in this vein I am working toward donating a percentage of my income toward reforestation. And, finally, where machines often fill me with anxiety, the act of translating my intention directly from body to tool to wood, the sound of the sharp blade against the fibers, these bring me to a place of serenity and introspection. I truly believe that this energy carries through the work when it comes to its new home. If something I make with my hands can bring someone to the same sharp whisper of peace and ancestral wisdom that I felt in making an object, then I have accomplished my mission.
– Carlos Flores
owner/woodworker
