Turning for the Love (and the Tools): Confessions of a Self-Funded Woodturner

Some people start a side business to get rich.
I started mine so I could buy more gouges.

Yes, I sell my work — but let’s be clear: nearly every dollar I make goes right back into the Tool Fund. You know, that mysterious black hole where art profits disappear, only to reappear as new chisels, sandpaper, and another lathe attachment that “I absolutely need this time.”

⚙️ Tools of the Trade (or: Where My Money Goes)

Woodturning might look simple — just you, a block of wood, and a lathe, right?
Ha. That’s like saying cooking just requires “a stove.”

To create even the tiniest turned mushroom or ornament, I rely on:

• A lathe, the whirling heart of the operation (and, occasionally, the reason I need new walls).

• A bandsaw, to cut blanks that are somehow never quite square.

• A chainsaw, for “roughing out logs” — which usually means getting covered head to toe in sawdust.

• A collection of gouges that sound like a medieval weapon rack:

  • Roughing gouge – for turning logs into something vaguely round.

  • Spindle gouge – for delicate details and occasional unplanned design changes.

  • Bowl gouge – the MVP, and also the one most likely to launch shavings into my shirt.

  • Skew chisel – elegant, precise, and terrifying.

  • Parting tool – for cutting things off when I’m either finished… or frustrated.

Each piece of wood turned art is really a collaboration between creativity, tools, and my checking account.

💰 The Myth of the Rich Woodturner

Let’s be honest — if I were doing this for the money, I’d have quit the first time I calculated my “hourly rate.”
After factoring in time, materials, sanding, finishing, photography, and website maintenance, I’m making… somewhere between coffee money and don’t-ask.

But that’s not the point.
The point is that every bowl, box, and mushroom pays for the next block of wood, the next gouge, the next spark of creativity.

🧠 Years in the Making

It’s taken me years of turning, selling, reinvesting, and occasionally learning the hard way (looking at you, cracked maple bowl) to make this hobby self-supporting.

And honestly? That’s the real success — not profit, but sustainability.
The ability to keep creating, learning, and occasionally justifying another tool purchase.

❤️ The Real Reward

In the end, I don’t turn wood to get rich.
I turn because it’s magic — because taking a raw, rough piece of tree and revealing the beauty inside never gets old.

The art funds the tools, the tools fund the art, and the cycle continues — beautifully, sawdust and all.