Rose, the continuing adventure now in the Third Part

As I mentioned a couple posts ago, one of the challenges of shaping a wand by hand is, if the wood allows, finishing with a straight shaft. The longer the shaft, the easier it is to carve a bend or shallow curve into the wood. I had 7.25 inches of 1x1 wood to shave a half inch at the top of the hilt down to a quarter inch at the tip.

After a short break to sneeze for 10 minutes (Fall-weather allergies are the worst), I slipped the basic sanding bit onto the Dremel and began peeling the wood away, starting where I'd already carved the wand's neck above the hilt. Slowly turning the wood with one hand, I sanded around and around and around ad nauseam, creating a sloping descent toward the center of the squared blank.

The progressive slope is the result of trying to preserve the sandpaper portion of my sanding bit for as long as possible. As I carve into the wood, the upper tip of the sandpaper (which is, I should say, a band of 60-grit sandpaper squeezed around a thick disc of black rubber, which is mounted on a steel bit that's keyed into the tip of the Dremel) is pushed against the forming wall of wood.

The edge of the sandpaper is the bit's weak point. The edge isn't as armored by the glue and grit as the rest of the band, so extended contact with the wood as the bit spins around a thousand times a second (I have no idea of its real speed), the more the wood rips the edge apart. To prevent this, I carve a shallow bit around the wood and then move the bit forward a little, until I've gone far enough to have some room to work, then I return to the lowest part and work my way back up again.

Soon, at not quite halfway, the shaft is looking straight.

The cat refuses to open her eyes. The pink dust of the tulipwood is everywhere. I don't know why she wants to sit so close to the noise and the sawdust, which you can see all over everything nearby.

Abruptly, I'm almost at the tip. I pause to review the progress. The shaft is still on target, but my sanding bit isn't looking too good. The edges are visibly frayed, at the top and the bottom. As I'm sanding, the band has sliding up and down the mandrel, and I expect it to fall apart at any moment.

Two minutes after I start again, aiming to finish the inch to the tip, the band pops off, flying behind me into the grass.

Ugh. The band is same color as the ground. I have disrobe almost entirely to find it or replace it. Hat, goggles, face mask, gloves, bandanna, chains, whips, beer. I put down everything and scour around and find a black coaxial cable growing out of the ground.

Then I find the band. It's actually intact.

I slip the band back onto the rubber mandrel. It goes on too easily. I take the band on and off again. This won't do. It'll fly right off the mandrel again if I try use it. Replace it, I will.

The original Dremel 407 1/2" Drum Sander, the cornerstone of my wandcraft. Made by gnomes. Sold by Amazons. I replace the old mandrel with the new one, sporting pristine 60-grit pebbling. Chills shudder along my spine as I begin carving the tip of the wand.

Success. The shaft is straight. The grip is done. By the time I get to this point with a wand, it always feels like I've completed a real adventure; however, I'm not breaking out the sandpaper yet.

The base of the hilt is too wide. The original design called for beveling either side of the ring and distinguishing it with a deep line cut, separating it from the grip, and adding a gem or stone to the bottom of the hilt. But while carving the shaft, the wide base kept getting in the way. I decide to trim it down from 3/4 inch to 1/2. Honestly, I want to trim the base to match the thinnest point of the grip, as if it were the continuing stem of the plant emerging out from bottom of the petal(ish) feature, but that might unbalance the wand. I continue with the 1/4-inch reduction.

I like the smaller base, at least for now. Aesthetically, I want it to be smaller still, but functionally the shallow, outward taper gives the grip a comfortable mooring.

Now the sandpapering. The dust turns to sweat. The 60-grit sandpaper is actually too much for the freshly-exposed tulipwood. I do a majority of the smoothing with the 100-grit. The 100-grit is my most recent addition to the finishing chain. I love it so. Not too rough, not too soft. No offense to the 60-grit, which is sometimes too stiff, and falls apart the fastest of all of the sandpapers. As usual, the 120-  and 220-grit brings on the polish, and I'm finished for the day.

When we return to Rose, we'll be adding a round of rose quartz to the 1/2-inch base. I don't have the quartz yet, so that's the next step for this wand.

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