What Type Of Woodworking Should I Do?

Finding Your Path in Woodworking: A Seasoned Perspective from the Bench

By Mike G.
The Master’s Workshop of WI

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It starts with a spark.

Maybe it’s the quiet rhythm of a hand plane over walnut. Perhaps it’s the gentle hum of a lathe spinning a blank into a bowl. Or maybe, it’s the soft grain of cedar catching the light just right. Whatever it is, something about woodworking stirs the soul—a holy echo of creation itself.

Bandsaw Boxes

If you’re here, reading this, chances are that spark has already kindled in you. You’ve felt the pull of the woodshop, and now you’re asking the next natural question: What kind of woodworking should I do?

It’s a question I’ve heard more times than I can count—and one I’ve asked myself more times than I’d like to admit. After nearly thirty years working with wood, I can tell you this: there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Woodworking is a broad, beautiful, endlessly varied world. Your path in it should reflect you—your interests, your shop space, your season of life.

Let’s take a walk through the possibilities together. And maybe along the way, you’ll hear the whisper of where you’re meant to begin.

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The Many Faces of Woodworking

Carpenters and Furniture Builders

Most people, when they first hear “woodworking,” picture two kinds of folks: the carpenter and the furniture maker.

Carpenters frame houses, build decks, remodel kitchens. They work outdoors, on-site, with tape measures hooked to their belt and nail guns ready. Precision is important, but it’s practical precision—close enough to stand plumb, level, and strong.

Furniture builders, by contrast, tend to live in the shop. Their work is deliberate, patient, even fussy by comparison. A sixteenth of an inch off can mean a drawer that doesn’t close or a joint that doesn’t hold. Where carpentry is bold and structural, furniture making is refined and quiet. One builds a shelter. The other builds a legacy.

But the world of woodworking is even wider than that. Much wider.

There are scroll saw artists who cut portraits from plywood. Turners who shape tree limbs into bowls. Box makers crafting keepsakes, and cabinetmakers installing kitchens. There are folks who burn pictures into wood with heated pens, and others who whittle animals from fallen branches. Some even build boats. (Not me—but I tip my hat to them.)

Each discipline calls for different tools, different skills, different kinds of patience. But they all start the same way: with your own two hands and a piece of wood.

Types or Disciplines of Woodworking

Furniture Making: More Than Tables and Chairs

Simple Oak Hall Table

So you want to build furniture? Wonderful. But here’s the real question: What kind of furniture?

You see, even “furniture” is a world unto itself. Beds, dressers, vanities. Rocking chairs, kitchen tables, desks. Bookcases, entertainment centers, coffee tables. Each type brings its own joinery, its own challenges, and its own sense of satisfaction when you finally slide that drawer in for the first time and it glides smooth as butter.

Then there’s style to consider. Will you build in the straight lines of Shaker simplicity? The curves of Queen Anne? The rugged strength of Mission, or the bold honesty of Mid-century Modern? Do you want your pieces to look like they came from a barn, a palace, or an art gallery?

Each style has its own rules—some written, some unwritten. Some demand specific tools and techniques. Some just ask that you care.

And that, really, is what good furniture making always demands: care.

You’ll want a decently outfitted shop—a table saw, planer, jointer, drill press, maybe a band saw. But more than that, you’ll need time, attention, and a willingness to learn the slow way. If that sounds like you, you might just find joy in the furniture path.

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Turning: Beauty in Motion

Two yellowheart, two maple, and one miscellaneous wood turned pen.

There’s something magical about turning wood on a lathe. The blank spins, the tool touches down, and shavings fly like ribbons. One moment, it’s a rough hunk of firewood. Next, it’s a pen. Or a bowl. Or a candlestick.

I’ve turned hundreds of pens over the years—many of them given away as gifts. A turned pen isn’t just a writing instrument. It’s a testimony. A reminder that something useful and beautiful can come from the most unassuming block.

Turning is its own kind of prayer. It requires rhythm. Sensitivity. You don’t force the wood—you dance with it.

I find that I let the wood talk to me and it dictates the form that it becomes. Similar to what Michelangelo said about sculpting David. He was in there all the while. I just chipped away the parts that didn’t belong.

The equipment needs are more modest here. A lathe, some chisels, maybe a bandsaw to rough out blanks. A good dust collector helps. You can do a lot in a small space, and that’s part of the appeal. But be warned: turning can be addictive.

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Scroll Sawing: Drawing with the Blade

My Scroll Saw Portrait

Praying hands intarsia. Made from Cedar for the hands, Aspen for the robe sleeves, and Bloodwood for the inside of the sleeves on a stained oak ply with Oak Frame

My scroll saw has probably seen more hours than any other tool in my shop. There’s just something peaceful about it. The gentle up-down of the blade. The smell of cut birch or cherry. The moment when a flat piece of plywood suddenly reveals a portrait or scene.

Scroll sawing offers so much variety. Fretwork, intarsia, marquetry, portraits, boxes. It’s one of the most artistic forms of woodworking—precision meets poetry. You can get started with just the saw and a way to cut your material to size. And the learning curve is kind if you’re patient.

If you’re the kind of person who loved coloring as a kid—or still does—you might find yourself at home with the scroll saw.

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Boxes and Cabinets: Practical Beauty

Pencil and small boxes

Box making might seem simple, but don’t be fooled. It’s a discipline that can be as straightforward or as ornate as you make it.

Simple boxes teach the fundamentals—square cuts, tight joints, grain direction. Ornate ones explore joinery, inlay, proportion, and finish. Jewelry boxes, keepsake chests, tea boxes. The humble box is a canvas for craftsmanship.

Cabinet making builds on the same principles but scales everything up. The cuts are bigger, the measurements more critical, the stakes a little higher. Mistakes are heavier and costlier—but so are the rewards.

If you like solving puzzles and bringing order from chaos, you might just enjoy box and cabinet making.

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Pyrography, Carving, and Boats (Oh My!)

Now, I’ll confess—I don’t spend much time in the world of pyrography (wood burning), carving, or boat building. But I know enough to admire those who do.

Wood burning is quiet, delicate work. It takes a steady hand and a nose that doesn’t mind the smell of singed pine. It’s one of the most affordable ways to start working with wood, and it lends itself well to artwork and gifts.

Carving is sculptural, meditative, and very much its own world. A few gouges and a block of basswood can keep a carver busy for hours. The best carvers don’t just shape wood—they breathe life into it.

Boat building is… well, intense. It demands precision, patience, and a good bit of courage. But I have friends who’ve built their own canoes and swear by the experience. It’s not where I’ve spent my time, but if water runs in your veins, it might be where you want to go.

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The Wild West of Miscellaneous Woodworking

Simple toy train and Rocking horse

Then there’s everything else: guitar making, toy building, cutting boards, spoons, birdhouses. Whimsical, practical, serious, silly—this is where you make what brings you joy.

Sometimes I think this is where the heart of woodworking really lives. In the projects made for grandkids, neighbors, friends. In the cutting board that gets used every day. In the toy that gets played with until the wheels fall off.

This kind of woodworking doesn’t demand a full shop. It just asks you to show up and make something. You’ll pick up new skills along the way, and maybe discover what kind of woodworker you’re becoming.

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Conclusion

So… What Kind of Woodworker Will You Be?

Maybe you know now. Maybe the answer leapt off the page at you. Or maybe you feel more overwhelmed than when you started. If that’s the case—my apologies. But also, congratulations. That sense of being overwhelmed? That’s just possibility, knocking on your door.

The truth is, you don’t have to choose just one path. I sure didn’t.

Over the years, I’ve been a carpenter, a furniture maker, a turner, a scroll saw artist, a toy maker, and more. I’ve remodeled homes, built sheds, cut fretwork, and turned pens. I’ve made gifts, cabinets, bookshelves, and keepsakes. I’ve breathed sawdust for thirty years, and God willing, I’ve got more years of it ahead.

I do what I love. I make what brings me joy. And sometimes, that changes with the season.

That’s the beauty of woodworking—it grows with you.

So start somewhere. Anywhere. Pick up a piece of wood. Feel its weight. Smell its grain. Cut something. Build something. Give it away. Do it again. Your hands will learn, and your heart will follow.

And when you do make something, I hope you’ll send me a picture. I’d love to see it.

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Until next time, keep making, keep learning, and keep listening to that quiet voice that says, “Create.”
– Mike G.

MikeG@themastersworkshop.com

© May 23, 2025

the masters workshop of wi