You can go to Walmart and buy a huge jewelry chest on legs with doors and drawers for $78.00 (or less). Fridays and Saturdays are my days to compete with the Chinese. I make little boxes with love and care, which are sold in galleries at prices that would be considered outrageous in comparison to the prices of Chinese goods, but for an amount of income which would embarrass most Americans. Fortunately, I have my other work as a writer and teacher, both of which are part time, and most fortunately, all are related to my love of woodworking. Between all three, I can keep making boxes.

I am interested in the discussion going on in the pages of Woodwork Magazine that started as a letter by American craftsman John Grew Sheridan. He feels that the Chinese have directly copied his design for a stool which they are selling at a fraction of his cost. That can be a very tough thing to approach from a legal standpoint. And the legal expense can be gruesome. How can you prove ownership of a shape? And how can you prove damages to your sales of that shape? Lawyers get a much higher hourly rate than most woodworkers.

There are other issues...

Where does the intrinsic worth of a object lie? Is it in the shape and use of the object, or does it lie in within deeper qualities? The style of James Krenov's cabinets have been copied by multitudes of American Craftsmen, using routers in place of hand planes, missing essential qualities of construction and intent, and while a copy may look the same from a distance or under the glare of your built-in flash, those in the know and those with greater depth of understanding would see clearly the inadequacies of the copied work. It is a shame that we are so concerned about copying the look of things when we could be encouraging the copying of the integrity with which things are made. By doing so, we might bring some significant change in our shallow culture and a greater understanding of craftsmanship, leading to a better valuation of the craftsman's work.

I am reminded of a story about Japanese potter Shoji Hamada. It seems a young, brash potter was copying Hamada's work and like the master, leaving it unsigned. Friends of Hamada came to him and insisted, "You must begin signing your work to distinguish it from the work of this upstart!" Shoji Hamada responded, "when he is dead and I am dead, the worst of my work will be thought his and best of his work will be thought mine."

And then there are the words of Satchel Paige, "Don't look back, something might be gaining on you." Could the best recourse to being copied be to keep involved in our own creative expression and caring craftsmanship, staying ahead of the pack and by leaping creatively beyond ourselves? Everything on the planet is derivative. Could we ever look at our own work in total confidence that it is derivative of nothing and of no one but what we ourselves did last? I suggest that we damn the torpedoes and blast creatively and qualitatively ahead.

I try to help my customers understand all the values of craftsmanship and design within my work and give credit to my sources of inspiration where I can. To do so conveys honor to both my source of inspiration and to myself. Those who choose to copy directly without adding personal touch or personal experience express their own failings of confidence and miss the wonderful opportunities that personal creativity and craftsmanship can provide. And I think that Satchel Paige might agree, they can copy where you've been but have no idea where you are going next.