
After hearing of James Krenov’s death, I looked for and found the plane I had bought from him last year. I thought he had put the blue masking tape around the throat and blade simply to keep the pieces in place for shipping, and I debated whether to take the tape off. Finally I did take it off and lo and behold, the throat was full of the most beautifully delicate shavings. Shavings put there by the master. I left them there and I don’t know if I will ever take them out.