Why.

Laser cutter incoming.

The Makerspce on the first floor of the bill brown creative workshops. Was the one room in the building I got to with as I liked. And as such it’s been pretty sorted and unchanged after about 8months of opening. The only real change after that was turning the laser cutter 90° so we could fit in another workbench.

In contrast, the hobby room, the one I am writing about today, was stagnant for its first year. Unused, and annoyingly fucking boring.

Since October 2025 though, it has been changing fast and now gets a decent amount of use. Not yet at the level of the Makerspace, but getting close.

The next change closes that gap. A second laser cutter arrives next week. Smaller, easier to use, and likely to bring in new users.

Adding the sewing machine needed a small shift. The laser cutter needs more.

The room has three small windows, and one can vent extraction after filtration. Right now there is a workbench in the way. That has to move.

The dark corner would work in theory. Underused, out of the way. But it is as far from the windows as possible, and I do not want ducting running across the room.

Sewing changes things as well. Venting matters more now. Fabric holds onto smell.

Another option is placing the laser opposite the windows under the shelving. But that is the best lit part of the room. It is where the plants are starting to live, and people like that. It softens the space. And makes a small piece of the workshop a bit garden like. I would rather lean into that. Build a small green corner, 3D print plant pots, test self watering systems.

Proposed layout. Trying to make all of that work in 6m by 3.5m. It will not look exactly like this, but I was playing with AI image generation and it is close enough to be useful.

The aim is simple. Two workbenches that can have four people each hammering away. Space for one person on the sewing machine and one on the laser cutter. Enough room that people are not in each other’s way.

It is a small room. It has to work hard.

It already carries a lot. Wall mounted photography backdrop, projector, badge maker, vinyl cutter, laminator, hot wire cutter, plus all the usual paints, brushes, pens, pencils, whiteboards and everything else that builds up.

The difference now is that it is being used. If this lands well, it stops being the spare room and becomes something closer to the Makerspace. Not the same, but just as active.

I expect the hobby room to hit its stride like the Makerspace has done.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

A small workshop problem, making one design that holds up across every tool, material, and pair of hands.

Not a logo.
Not a letterhead.
Not a poster.
Not a T shirt.

It needs to be all of these.
And be able to be made by anyone.
Of any level of experience.

Last year we engraved coasters for visitors, alumni, students, people just passing through. It worked. Then someone asked for a sticker. Same design, printed down small.

It was pretty bad.

Technically fine. Visually… weak. It lost its weight, its clarity. What worked in wood didn’t carry over.

Things we make are tied to the process that made them.

But the workshop doesn’t work like that. Different people, different machines, different confidence levels. The design has to hold up whether it’s laser engraved, vinyl cut, 3D printed, or squeezed into a 32mm badge.

And it still has to say something: what we do here, that it’s Churchill, that it’s worth paying attention to. Thats its…not that serious and you can have fun.

Make something simple enough to cross over from tool to tool, process to process. Bold enough to read small. Flexible enough to be remade in anything. And fun enough that a 16 year old or a 75 year old actually wants to make it.

Its unlikely there will be a perfect version made. But at least it won’t break when it moves.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

It pulls people in. And they stay.

Natural light is where people gather. It’s where they choose to work.

The workbench under the skylight gets used. Put it in a darker corner, and it won’t, or it gets moved.

When I started working on the Bill Brown Creative Workshops, the Hobby Room was called “The Studio.” That’s it in the red circle.

It’s more tightly packed now (below). There are no lights on, it’s not a particularly sunny day, and I haven’t made it brighter by moving things around.

But the pattern still holds.

When a workbench was in the right hand corner, it wasn’t used much. Moved to the left side, with another in the middle, and both get used.

It’s probably not the only reason, but it’s part of it.

2nd floor sketch. It’s drawn the opposite way around, but it shows where people naturally gravitate.

The circled “dark” area maps to the bottom right of the color photo. It’s not really dark at all, but it’s the least well lit part of the room.

I’ve tried placing a workbench there. It doesn’t get used.

The Makerspace (1st floor) is exceptionally well lit. A 1m × 1m skylight, large double doors opening into the biggest, also well lit room, and smaller hatch doors, usually open, flood the space with light.

It’s the most popular room in the building. Yes, it has the printers, laser cutter, and tools, but it’s also the brightest space.

Ground floor.

First thing, every day, turn on these lights.

When people walk in through the main doors at the back, the first impression matters. They should be met by light, an open, inviting room. Not a doorway into darkness.

This room has always been a challenge. It’s a “have to use it” room, not a place people choose, linger in, or stay to talk. Coincidence? It has the least natural light.

Light matters. It makes a space feel welcoming.
And here, that matters.

For many, this is their first step into being creative.
Some are stepping outside their curriculum.
Others are returning to creativity for the first time in years as adults, learning something new.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

Not a retreat or a strategy day. Just ill.

Absence is a brutal consultant.

When you’re not there, systems either carry on or they don’t. People either have what they need or they don’t.

The useful part being away hasn’t been the rest. It’s seeing what works (well-ish) without me, and what doesn’t.

Let’s start with the obvious oversight.

There is not a good online calendar for the Bill Brown Creative Workshops.

By good, I mean there is one, but its pretty crap.

Which sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous.

A workshop without a reliable, publicly accessible, always-up-to-date digital calendar.

On paper, that’s incompetence.

I needed to ask someone else to blu-tack an apology to a door that an induction was cancelled.

In reality, it’s more political than practical.

FAQs Behind the Machines

How many times does someone need to ask a How To question?

Often, and repeatedly, this is normal as everyone is learning, including me.

Or which setting to use?

Or why something isn’t turning on?

Or where is this things?

Most problems are not problems. They are a missing piece of info.

Which brings us to printed FAQs.

Which I’ve started and have been added to and edited while teaching by having white boards next to them. But more is needed.
Simple diagnostic steps.
Check this.
Turn that switch.
Unplug and cool down (literally not figuratively)
All on clear laminated card behind the equipment.

So far:

• A proper shared calendar.

• A digital information board that can be updated remotely.

  I did not think of this until writing this blog post.

• FAQs per area, per machine, printed.

And I’m sure there will be others.

If the Bill Brown Creative Workshops is going to grow, or even just sustain itself properly, it cannot rely on me being physically present to function smoothly.

If it only works when you’re there, it doesn’t work.
The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

The goal is access. Lowering the barrier, and making it obvious what to do and where to do it.

For a long time, the focus has been capability. Larger beds. More materials. Greater precision. But there is still a hesitation. And hesitation is a hurdle.

This shift is about removing that hurdle.

New steps:

• Two small, very easy to use printers

• Single filament only

• Small build plate for small prints

• No in person training required

• Pre loaded ready to print designs

• Fill the safety form and off you go.

• Get comfortable using 3D printers.

And if that is where someone wants to stay, great.

If they want to print bigger, or experiment, upskill, try with different filaments, then they can attend a training and move onto the larger, more complex printers.

Start simple. Grow with intent.

I have been trialling this approach already. The concept works, but without a separate area for each set of printers it has been messy.

People without training have tried to use the more complex machines. They ask for help. Halfway through the conversation they realise what they actually needed was training and should of had before using. That moment of recognition can feel awkward. No one likes feeling like they have made a mistake.

At the same time, others have navigated it perfectly.

Hi, I printed these after filling out the form and now I am ready to move on.

That is exactly the progression we want.

The missing piece has been separation and clarity.

Today I set up the first printer. Tomorrow I set up the second.

Then:

Signage needs to be designed and installed. This will be critical.
The training page on the website needs to be updated.
And curated simple pre drawn items needs to be selected and loaded.

The workshops need substantial development. This approach frees up my time. It removes a hurdle for users. It also protects the more complex printers from being occupied by novelty prints that can easily be handled by the simpler machines.

More access and more clarity.
And hopefully more growth.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

Giving tours of the Bill Brown Creative Workshops is straightforward.
You walk through the spaces.
You explain the tools.
You point out the projects.
You describe the possibilities.

After the tenth, fifteenth, twentieth time, it can feel mechanical. Efficient. Polished.

Monotonous.

But the tour isn’t the point.

The point is what happens when the script ends.

Like any first time visitors to a creative place, they arrive…cautiously.
They nod. They smile. They listen.
I ask what they think, what they would change, what they would build, what would make them enjoy and feel inspired here.
Coaxing.

On the way back down we pause on the first floor. Under the skylight. It reminds me of being at Makespace.

That’s when it shifted.
It only takes one person.
One “Oh, I’d love to try that.”
One “I made something like this once and it was brilliant.”
And suddenly the dam breaks.

Fifteen minutes of real Q&A. Laughter. Curiosity. Possibility. The energy in the room transforms from passive consumption to active ownership. A wanting to try.

And that’s when the real tour begins.

In those conversations, I learned something I should have known: Churchill College has a sewing club. With its own machines that are stored in a students room!
As I’m trying to grow sewing (and craft) within the Bill Brown. And while craft is taking off, building appetite and momentum takes time.

Yet here was an existing club, already organised, already engaged, that I hadn’t connected with or known about.
That’s not just a missed detail.
It’s a missed question.

If I want to embed a culture of making into the fabric of the larger organisation, Asking Who is already doing this? Who has momentum? Where is the energy already flowing? will be key. And I have asked in places. Collaborating with the Games Club on tabletop role playing and miniature painting could become a regular event. Or it could fizzle. But its a much better start point than alone.

Building workshops is rarely linear. Some days it feels like two steps forward, three steps back. At Makespace, we saw it repeatedly: eighteen people clamour for something for months. You organise it. Invest time. Invest money. Launch it.

And then…Silence.
Interest evaporates.

But the insight here is enthusiasm isn’t the same as infrastructure.

A pre-existing club with real users, like sewing, is infrastructure. It’s not just noise; it’s commitment. That’s a nice jump forward if a collaboration can be found.

So. Not better tours, better questions. (note to self)

What am I overlooking?
Who is already building what we’re trying to build?
Where can collaboration replace reinvention?

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

The day starts with sorting and labelling. Last month, I divided all stock, projects, and miscellaneous items (such as spare cables) between the old cupboard (pictured) and the newly built one. The old cupboard now holds all day to day materials and consumable stock, so in time others can stock up as needed. The other cupboard is replacement items (fire door stops, SD cards),and few small expensive items people can request. Also while I don’t have an office or desk, having a secure place to store my work laptop, key documents, and things I’m working is helpful.

From there, I shifted to a more hands-on task. Applying a coat of beeswax to a demo laser-cut piece. A chopping board with resin in the engraved section for an upcoming discussion with the Møller Centre (Executive Education).

A key principle in setting up and using shared workshops is that things don’t need to look perfect, but everything should have a designated place, and a small gap between items greatly improves usability and prevents overlap. Moving the sewing machine slightly has freed up the cubby holes and created space for a few plants without obstructing the workbenches, seating area, or doorway.

Next, I tackled an area I’ve been behind on for months: electronics. Over six months ago, someone involved in the Creative Workshops suggested adding more hands on, practical electronics and soldering activities. I was really into this especially since the tech focused digital side of things has not taken off despite significant investment, so it was a relief he didn’t want more of that. Interest has been modest so far, but today, while putting up posters outside the building, a student who hasn’t used the workshops yet mentioned she hadn’t soldered since doing it with her dad as a child and was interested to try again. No huge, but every little bit helps.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

That’s been the Digital Lab.

From day one it never quite became what it was meant to be. Not because it was bad. Not because the kit wasn’t good. In fact, perversely, it had more money sunk into it than the other two rooms combined.
And yet, almost nobody used it.
When I say nobody, I mean maybe five people who really got stuck in. Five. Over a year and a half.

Some of that is the room itself. Black floor. Low ceiling. No windows. It has the charm of an above ground basement. A place that feels like it should apologise for existing. Standard phones, laptops, and cameras are so good now that most people already have something good enough in their pocket. And good enough is what they are aiming for. So the really great kit computing kit is….not needed.

I took all the computing and compressed it down into the smallest part of the room. Two powerful PCs. The iMac. VR headsets. A little Computer Cave. Compact. Still there if people need it. But no longer pretending to be the centre of gravity.

And in doing that, I gave the rest of the room back to what the building actually wants to be. Not another makerspace. Not another hobby room.
Something in between.
Something with space to grow.

On the first floor we’ve got the Makespace. On the top floor, the Hobby Room, arts, crafts, slower work. Now on the ground floor we’ve got a workshop for shared projects. Small team builds. Big messy ideas.
The kind of work that needs elbow room.
If we were using corporate speak, we’d say future-proofing.
Vomit.
So I’m saying space to grow.

Right now, that might mean laying out a product photography shoot. If painting miniatures and tabletop role playing takes off, there’s room for that to become its own thing. If When we get a second laser cutter :-), it might live here depending on extraction. Maybe a small milling machine. Maybe a (very small) recording booth.

And the difference is f****** immediate.
The room already feels like part of the building. Not an experiment. Not a compromise. Not a basement pretending to be something else. It feels usable.
Which is a bigger jump than a simple step in the right direction.

Two Caves, One Room

The Computer Cave side saw a lot of little videos today. Most of them living briefly on Instagram Stories. I’ll pull those together into one proper video sometime this week and it will be on here. That side is now a place for people who really need that level of computing. Without letting it dominate the room.

The Creative Cave is where things get interesting. Three workbenches from Warp it (Cambridge University’s effort to stop perfectly good things going to landfill). That little rescue saved just under £2,000 and gave me solid surfaces to work on.

Two desks merged into one gives the centre of the room a big chunky square work area. That’s where the current shared project will live. Everything’s laid out. Ready. People could just walk in and crack on. After that? We’re building a 7’ x 4’ version of Settlers of Catan.
Because obviously we are.

There’s still a narrow photography area, plus three backdrop hanging points for proper portrait and profile shoots. One other bench is currently a temporary chaos zone. Charging VR, holding the bits that need disposing, with a big whiteboard behind it.
That’s my favourite bench.
That’s the one I’m deliberately not defining. Yet!
That’s the bench that becomes whatever the next thing needs to be.

There’s also an open corner where large items get photographed. My suspicion is that’s where the next big piece of equipment will land. Laser cutter. Model mill. Recording booth. Something we haven’t thought of yet.

Letting Go of the Digital Lab

After nearly a year and a half, the soon-to-be-renamed room that was the Digital Lab has finally joined the rest of the building. Nothing has been removed. It’s just been shrunk down to the size.

It went through photography lab, digital lab, computer station. A room with a label before it had a purpose. It was worth trying, but now it’s done. For the first time, the ground floor isn’t an experiment. It’s a workshop, full of possibility, and it finally belongs.

Today. Was. Excellent.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

Not for feet.
Not for fire exits.
But for eggs.

An arena for egg cracking prevention inventions. A classic challenge. Cushion the fall. Save the egg. Defy gravity with paper, straws, tape, and hope. This time they used Cadbury’s Creme Eggs so the winners could have a snack.

You could see it all taking shape in the Makerspace. Hot glue guns humming. Sellotape parachutes blooming. Straws bent into shock absorbers. Hands busy. Heads together. Forty minutes or so of building, chatting, discussing ideas and gossiping.

Then it was go time.

A 360 cam was cable tied into the corner of the staircase to capture the drop zone. Zoomed out wide it almost caught the launch point and clearly caught the impact. One by one each invention stepped forward to meet gravity. The staircase itself became part of the making, turning into a testing tower for the afternoon.

Student led events always carry a different kind of energy. More informal. More honest. More fun. They built. They tested. They probably cleaned up too. I will know tomorrow. Longer write up and video footage to come at Churchill Creative Blog.

Most of all they used the Creative Workshops exactly as intended. To try. To build. To fail. To win. To laugh.

Perfect.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

The first part documents the period before my involvement, including early plans, proposal images, a scale model, Bill Brown’s photographs of the site, and an aerial shot of the building three quarters complete showing the timber frame. Part two covers my first three months, July to September, preparing the space for opening. At this stage it was still very bare bones, but people could start working, with photos of unpacking, sketches, layout experiments, and the ways the space was tested and rearranged. Part three shows the first year of operation, with laser cutters and 3D printers in use and the workbenches coming to life. Part four highlights the shelving area in the current hobby room filled with objects people have made, and part five presents a projected screen showing other maker and hacker spaces from around the world.

This was included to provide wider context, showing what came before, how long the process took, the effort involved, and that development was iterative. Many approaches were tried over time; it was never just a matter of attempting one idea and stopping.

Another reason for doing this was that before it became the hobby room, the space was called the studio and it had almost no use. When I started changing it, I wanted to fill it quickly and make it look full, fun, and interesting. The story took up about a third of the room. Now the room is busy, well used, and needs more workbenches and more space to make things. The story can be reduced, but I do not want it to disappear.

The plan is to frame all non physical items such as photographs, sketches, and drawings and display them along the staircase from the ground floor to the second floor, leading to the shelving area of completed projects. The cleared space will become a third workbench in the hobby room. I started this today and it already looks great from the ground to the first floor. The frames and images are up, though the prints are low quality for now. Once I finalise the selection and order, I will have high quality prints made at AVMG.

I hope this will do a few things. It will draw people on the ground floor to explore the rest of the building and, more importantly, highlight the fun and interesting moments from the Bill Brown workshops. It shows happy students, fellows, and staff tinkering—making dice boxes and snow globes, painting jeans and ties, creating badges, signs, and posters, and editing videos. It captures what Bill Brown is all about: making, tinkering, experimenting, learning from mistakes, breaking things, and figuring things out by doing. The Bill Brown Creative Workshops at Churchill College :-)

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

How to Remove Hotend Reads the label.

Not when there is so much filament it covers all the screws.
And pretty much seals all the press fit plastic pieces together.

This happens when 100% of your users are newbies. This can be as a bit of a con, a downside. A mild annoyance.
But the pro’s that come with it, are worth it.
You get to tease the person who did, in front of their friends :-)

I have not seen a 3D printer filament jam annihilate a tool head and hotend so badly. Some much extruded filamnet has come through eveywhere except where it should come through that it has bent the Hotend.

Instead of using an small allen key, a cloth, some compressed air and small knife to open wrapped replacement parts…

I began with a chisel. A dam chisel!

Remove Carefully I read on the wiki…Nope!

Remove vigorously with a pair of pliers!

After getting the hardened dry filament out of the way I could remove the bolts and dismantle the Toolhead.

Cables also had to be cut rather than be…unfed? do you unfeed a cable. Not sure if thats the correct term. But either way, thats not what I did. They were cut due to cables be twisted and sealed in filament.

Tomorrow…no..Monday will be assembly and see if its been worth it.

This was Fun!…but I’d rather not have to do it again.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

First, three cubby-hole uprights arrived. Then a base board. Then a top. Out came a jig, three drills, two carpenters, and forty-five minutes later, part one of the units was slid into position. No drama.

Part two was the cupboard. Carried upstairs, nudged into place, and revealed a small gap. One quick cut later, everything was square again, the doors were hung, the lock checked, keys handed over. Job done.

What this neat little story conveniently skips is the days of work beforehand in the carpentry shop: drawing, cutting, marking, sanding, tweaking, drilling. All the unseen graft that makes the on-site work look effortless. But even knowing that, it’s still impressive how a 2.7m × 60cm × 90cm unit was assembled, screwed together, and installed in about an hour and a half. Including checks, chats, and jokes.

And all of this was fitted into a part of the building that is very much not square.

Which brings us back to the point.

Thank you, Oz and John at Churchill College.

All that remained was to move back and start packing the assorted pile of stuff from the other side of the room into its new, fitted home, which had been moved before work began.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

This piece will now be put to use at Bill Brown Creative Workshops, in what is currently the Digital Lab. It is a dark ground floor room with little to no natural light and a black stone tiled floor. Rather than fighting those qualities, I need to steer the redesign of the space to use them, and the furniture has to do some of that work. New, modern office style workstations have not worked here at all. So I am reaching back instead, starting by bringing in a piece I refurbed myself.

The refurb itself was a straightforward and satisfying job, stripping it back to the main structure, repairing the damaged sections, replacing weak panels, sanding, and finishing it in a way that restored function without erasing its history. If you want the full breakdown of the process, that is covered in an earlier post.

Having finished revamping and changing the direction of a the former named Studio to now Hobby room last year. I am reminded after looking at pictures that lots more things will likely be ordered and having ample place to lay things out shall also be useful both for storing but showing people the direction we are heading.

In areas meant for creative juicing, ditching the new modern and embracing the old may help. Perhaps it will be more analogue than digital tools that bring this room to life.

In this darker ground floor space, the lectern may help the room be more practical, and feel less restrictive. It could prove to be a better starting point for shaping the space than anything shiny and new ever was.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

An open gap. Big. Awkward. Architecturally polite enough to ignore, practically useless enough to irritate. From the beginning, it has sat there doing very little, quietly reminding me that unfinished ideas are not neutral. They drain attention simply by being present. I’ve tried several quick fix solutions none have cut it.

So it’s a built in cupboard time. No statement piece, no distractions. Just something that belongs and does its job. The design needs to be simple, affordable, and built in place, because the staircase won’t allow for a large, pre-assembled unit. That constraint sets the tone: plywood, cut to size, assembled in the room.

Everything follows existing systems. The storage is sized to take the same boxes used in the all the workshops, with a lockable cupboard for stock. Including a very thin shelf at the top for a work laptop and the occasional personal papers. Between each storage section is space for equipment. A 3D printer that stays set up and running, and other tools like the vac former and hot wire cutter that can be stored properly and brought out when needed. It’s being made by the carpenters at Churchill, with the ply delivered yesterday and cutting underway today.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

Next week, I will begin working on redoing and moving around the Digital Lab on the ground floor of the Creative Workshops, as it is not pulling its weight. The area used the most in this room is the photography backdrop, and I want an area like this to still be available while the changes are taking place, but without people getting in my way while I refurbish. So today was spent building another hanging backdrop on the 2nd floor that can be put into use on one of the workbenches within minutes.

Set up cost:

• Wood brace for wall. Left over ply £0

• Curtain rail holder £8

• Copper Tubing as curtain rails/backdrop holders. I plumbing supplies, but you could use standard curtain rails which are around £5 each (2 needed)

• White/Black reversible photography backdrop £15

• Vinyl backdrop (10 mixed colors) £20

• Phone holder ring light £12

• Really good tripod! £35

£95 in total. But if you only need one color knock £20 off ,and a cheap tripod is £15. So could be done for £60.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

And yet today is the day the whiteboards get cleaned.

It’s the clean sweep I’ve gotten used to and one I’ve made part of the workshops routine and is slowly becoming part of the culture.

Routine: A regular course of procedure, a customary or unvarying method of doing things, or a set of customary and often mechanically performed activities or procedures. (OED)

Culture: the way of life, especially the general customs and beliefs, of a particular group of people at a particular time. (dictionary.cambridge.org/)

At the start of each term (or just before) the whiteboards are cleaned. Some are then left blank (like below), some are updated with info to show changes to come. And others are used by me to track what I have to do.

When you regularly stop to clear space, you can reflect:

What didn’t work last term and needs changing?
What’s broken and needs fixing?
What did we stop doing?
What do we push forward?

Not housekeeping. Progress. Slow. Steady. Progress.

Only one thing was kept on one of the whiteboards because its just great. This is the 4th full whiteboard of suggestions, requests and feedback.

But what I’m really liking is the boards are now also being used to doddle with.

People are doodling.

That might sound trivial. It isn’t.

Doodling means comfort. It means ownership. It means people feel safe enough in the space to leave a mark that doesn’t have to be perfect or productive.

The Daily Make | Jonathan Woolf

Two of the three workshops are now properly done. The third is still in progress, but it is in a far stronger position than anything I had at this point last year. That alone has changed how December feels. Instead of constantly pushing to get things over the line, I have been able to slow down, check in, and do the kind of steady work that often gets lost during busier periods.

From the 1st of December through to around the 16th was focused work time. I wrote the full list of tasks on the whiteboard in the hobby room. Everything that needed doing went up there in one place. Those days were spent properly in and out of the space, making progress, completing tasks, and moving things forward. As items were finished, I added a date beside each one.

That small act made a real difference.

Seeing progress physically marked changed how the work felt. Lines through completed tasks and dates beside others made the work visible and tangible. It was no longer hidden inside a digital tool. It was there every time I walked through the room. Even though the hobby room is or could be shared by 100+ people, having my work visible and persistent helped maintain momentum in a way private lists never quite manage.

This was also the first time I had put everything related to the workshops in one place. Normally I spread things out across notes, lists, and half written plans. This time, the full picture was visible at once. That shift mattered (at least to me). It confirmed something I already suspected but had not fully committed to. Seeing work physically in my environment changes how I engage with it.

I have written before, both here and on the new Churchill Creative blog, about the value of whiteboards. This month reinforced that belief. There is something to walking past a board and being reminded, without effort, of what is underway and what has already been done. Digital tools are useful, but they do not create the same quiet sense of progress.

I did not finish everything on the board, but I did far more than I expected. It felt successful. I also noticed a shift in how I structured my thinking. I started by sketching ideas in notepad, then making a list digitally, then moved them onto the board. For this phase, balancing college work with the ongoing development of the Makespace, that approach worked well.

From the 16th through to the end of the month, things slowed. I was still coming in, but more intermittently. It was mostly watering plants, checking in, and keeping things ticking over rather than active building or development.

Looking ahead to 2026, I want to be more deliberate about how I use shared physical spaces like this. I do not want the board to become entirely mine when so many others use the room. At the same time, I do not want to lose what clearly works. There is a balance to be found.

For now, I am OK with what has been done. The board shows progress, or at least to others whats been done. Feels like the right place to end the year.

Jonathan Woolf
The Daily Make

Every two weeks, without fail, the room reaches its saturation point. After a handful of making days, or an event or a wave of deliveries, entropy takes the lead. The only viable response is a full and decisive reset. Everything out. Everything reconsidered. A firm 3 month rule for what stays. I would say six, but I am very limited on space. It has to prove itself quickly. If it has not been used in that time, it is either binned or boxed. With more square footage I might be more generous, but in a constrained space clarity and discipline are the only tools that consistently work.

The system remains simple.

No exceptions. Quick decisions win. Keep or Bin.

If it is Bin:

If it is a bin item, bin it immediately. Walk downstairs. Put it in the bin.

Done.

If it is Keep:

If you are using it or it is being used or tested today or this week, it stays.

If not, pack it away and label it with a date.

Out of sight.

Out of the workflow.

Using it now or this week.

Give it a real home.

A spot it can live for the next three months.

No spot.

Make one.

Or pack it away.

A single cupboard now holds the essentials. Stock, paperwork, laptop, upcoming projects, materials, personal projects, and, inexplicably, the large box my work laptop arrived in. Proper built in storage is in the design phase and should be ready early in the new year.

The Hobby Room in the Bill Brown reminds me of a larger version of Artspace at Makespace Cambridge on Mill Lane. This is amusing as it is the only thing that would be larger in the Bill Brown than anything Makespace has. Makespace is 4100 square feet while he Bill Brown is 350 square feet. Artspace worked because it brought together existing little tools and items already in use across the building that did not have a proper home. It met the requests for a standing height work area. It created a place for stationery. It uplifted an area that was constantly visible but only used 2 to 4 times a year.

It worked a charm. At first it needed a lot of attention but that lessened as its usage habits improved (people packed stuff away, after being asked politely-ish)

The same has happened with the Hobby Room, formerly the studio. Previous usage was…2, in an entire calendar year. Now its more alive and messy. Demanding constant reorganisation, and continuously proving its value.

Two out of three rooms at the Bill Brown Creative Workshops are now on track. Order is never final, but every deliberate decision pushes the place a little further towards a more enjoyable space to use and make in.

The Daily Make

Jonathan Woolf

At the Bill Brown Creative Workshops, that ethos is embodied perfectly in our “What Don’t We Have That You Want?” board. It has become the single most used and popular spot in the BBCW that is not a piece of equipment. Here, makers are encouraged to voice needs, request new tools or materials, or flag things they think could improve the space. Every suggestion is a potential new direction for the workshop. Sometimes fun, sometimes a disappointment, and occasionally a headache for me.

What is a little surprising is that despite the board being wide open for ideas, almost none of the requests are ridiculous. People ask for what will genuinely help them make, explore, or experiment. Scissors, basic piece of kit, card stock, or a new filament dryer, never unicorn powered teleporters or infinite chocolate dispensers. It is a nod to how seriously people are taking their ideas and how grounded curiosity tends to be when channelled into a creative space.

The board does more than generate shopping lists. It encourages asking the unanswerable, a central principle in any makerspace. Questions here are not just theoretical, they are invitations to act. Can I try this? Could we build that? What would happen if we did it this way? By writing them down and making the question public, the workshop itself becomes a collaborative experiment.

The board is also anonymous which I think helps a lot :-) !

In short, the board in our workshop is not a wish list. It is a fun reflection of the maker mindset.

• Ask boldly

• Experiment safely

• Iterate constantly

The beauty of it is that everyone benefits, not just the person asking, but everyone who steps into the workshop after them, curious to try, learn, and answer questions through doing.

In a makerspace, the best learning rarely comes from instructions or manuals. It comes from questions we do not yet have answers to and from the courage to explore them anyway.

Jonathan Woolf.

The Daily Make.

Sharp. Clean. Cut on the laser.

Stick-on, double-sided tape. No fuss.

They guide you, nudge you, whisper where to go. A few little icons too, so you know what’s what without needing to think too hard.

The wooden ones… different story.

Less planned. Less perfect. That was the point.

Didn’t want them polished. Didn’t want them pretending to be something they’re not. Rough edges. Honest.

They look… well, exactly how they’re meant to look.

I’m also starting to bring the other two workshops, the digital room and the new hobby room, as well as the staircase in line with the look and feel of the makerspace.

Correct signage for health & safety and general info has all been done properly, with a snazzy, cohesive style. But the rest…It’s a bit mismatched. A bit lived-in. Things made, broken, fixed, reworked. Nothing perfect.

In the end? Everything feels just a little bit more alive.

Maker through and through.

Jonathan Woolf

The Daily Make