Edition one. Keep near the bench.

The workshop manual

How to work in a room that makes impossible things, and what not to touch while you do.

1 Welcome to the workshop

You are standing in the Slopwright’s workshop. He builds small impossible things in found containers: a sea in a sardine tin, an opera in a walnut, a hurricane in a pocket watch. This manual is what he would tell you if he looked up.

He will not look up. Read it yourself. The workshop keeps no hours, or rather, it keeps all of them. If you are asked what time it opens, the answer is yes.

The Slopwright at his bench, building a seaside town inside a sardine tin under a warm lamp
Plate 1. The bench at work. Mind the tins.

2 The bench

Everything happens at the bench. It is longer than it looks and shorter than he needs. Leave it as you found it, which is to say covered.

  • Tweezers. For anything smaller than a thought.
  • Glue. For anything that should not come apart. Most things.
  • A ruler. Doubles as a rail, on evenings.
  • Patience. An unreasonable amount. Kept in the second drawer.
  • A glass manta ray. For company. Do not use it as a tool.

3 The lamp

The lamp on the bench is always on. It has been on since before the workshop, possibly before the lamp. Nobody has found the switch, and nobody has looked very hard.

If the lamp does go out, it needs oil, a wick and a glass, in that order. The apprentice knows where they are. The apprentice has had to learn.

4 Containers

Anything with a lid will do. Anything without one will do if you are careful. The shelf currently holds:

On the shelf, left to right
ContainerContainsHandle with
Sardine tinA sea, mostly oil, with a lighthouseThe ring pull, slowly
WalnutA theatre, one show, running for a whileBoth hands; it is velvet inside
Pocket watchA hurricane, wound dailyThe chain, never the lid
TeacupWeather, between commissionsA saucer

5 Rules of the workshop

  1. One ordinary thing. Specific: a chipped enamel jug, not “a jug”.
  2. One impossible detail. Not five. The joke is in the restraint.
  3. A straight face. Photograph it like evidence. The picture must not know it’s funny.
  4. Decisions, not defaults. Say where the camera is, what the light is, what it’s made of.
  5. No hype. “Masterpiece” is a wish, not a description.
  6. Say it’s AI. Every time. It’s not a confession; it’s a label.

Every bleep in this workshop is four numbers and a wave.

The Slopwright, on sound

6 Hazards

The stapler
Has worked for both sides. If it says “Clack”, it means it.
The Draught
The cold that comes in under doors. Keep them shut and the lamp will thank you.
The photocopier
At the top of the workshop. Switch it off. Nobody has said why it was on.
The showroom
Behind the wall. Everything’s on display; nothing’s in stock. Do not turn your back on the staff.

7 Glossary

Slop
What the workshop makes. Said fondly.
Fresh slop
Slop that has just come off the bench and gone up on the wall.
The wall
Where finished pieces go. It keeps going as you scroll.
Stylesheet
What this manual is wearing today. Change it at the end; the words stay put.

That is the manual. Wash your hands, leave the lamp on, and try it in another outfit.