There comes a point in every bowl turner's journey when the question arises: what's inside?

There's a question that haunts makers: when is a piece finished Not technically finished, sanded, sealed, polished. That's measurable. I mean the other kind of finished: when do you stop refining and accept that what you have is what it's going to be?

As spring turns to summer, the workshop calendar shifts. Longer days mean more turning time. Warmer temperatures make the workshop more comfortable. And the rhythm of the year offers natural pauses – holidays, garden time, outdoor life – that can paradoxically make workshop sessions feel more precious.

I'm glad to say that Stewart Furini RPT will be joining us at the school in 2027. He's bringing two days that take us somewhere new: decoration, texture and colour. Find out about his classes here.

There's a principle in education called the "protégé effect" – the phenomenon where teaching something helps you understand it better yourself. It's not just that teachers know more; it's that the act of teaching creates deeper knowledge.

Colwin came to teach the Viking Sunset Bowl last weekend. If you've spent any time at all around contemporary turning, you'll have seen one. It's the late Nick Agar's design, and it's become one of those pieces that stops people mid-scroll.

Ask any group of turners about the skew chisel and you'll get strong opinions. It's the tool people either love or fear, master or avoid. And that avoidance is a shame, because the skew is capable of producing the cleanest cuts in woodturning when used correctly.

There are turners who follow traditional paths, mastering classic forms and time-tested techniques. And then there's Emma Cook.

Here's a truth that experienced turners know but beginners often miss: sanding doesn't fix problems. It reveals them.

Sociologists talk about "third places" – spaces that aren't home (first place) or work (second place), but somewhere else entirely. Cafes, pubs, community centres. Places where you can simply be, without the demands of domestic or professional life.

As winter gives way to spring, the woodworking calendar fills with opportunity. Shows, events, and the longer days that make workshop time more appealing.

The youngest person I've taught was 12. The oldest was ninety-eight! Both walked away with finished pieces and the same expression: I Made This!

If you've been with Turner's Journey from the beginning of this season, you might remember how it all started. Back in June 2025, I introduced Season 2 sitting by a lake, saying that I do an awful lot of my best thinking when I come fishing. It felt right to end the season in the same place.

If you're based in Berkshire, around Newbury, Basingstoke, or anywhere along the A34 corridor, and you've been looking for somewhere to learn woodturning, you may have assumed there's nothing much within easy reach. The good news is that The Woodturning School is considerably closer than most people expect.

I've been thinking a lot about Turner's Journey lately, about what it is, how often it should land, and where it goes from here. After all your generous comments and suggestions over recent weeks, I've decided to bring this first season to a close at Episode 30.

There's a moment in every class when I see it happen. A student finishes their first piece, holds it up, and something shifts in their expression. It's not just pride – though that's part of it. It's something deeper, almost physical.

Some weeks in the workshop are about making things on the lathe. Others are about making things happen around it. This one was firmly in the second camp.

One of the things that surprised me when I started turning was the generosity of the community. I'd expected competition with people guarding their techniques, reluctant to share secrets. What I found was the complete opposite.

This week on Turner's Journey, it's been a mixed bag of workshop life. I've been filming a new video for the Byte-Size Workshop on tool rest height, prepping pen blanks (not my favourite job, I'll be honest), and I made the early-morning drive over to Sandon Woodturners in Essex for a demonstration.

When people ask why I've spentover ten years at the lathe, I could talk about beautiful bowls or the satisfaction of working with timber. Both are true. But there's something else happening that matters more: woodturning is extraordinarily good for your brain.