I'd like to be a craftsman.

There's something substantial about the word "craft." It sounds solid, more solid than "career' or "profession."

Why is that? My coffee shop has an old WPA mural reproduction over the counter, and sometimes I like to imagine that I'm the metalworker in that mural. But the closest I get to "bare metal" is specifying a server in the cloud.

I'd like to try to act all hard. But truth is, I'm soft. Soft as a cloud.

Your work may not be a "craft" right now. But, with enough time, it may grow to become one. 

It sure looks like craftsmanship is retreating these days. It seems to be available mostly as nostalgia, for those who have the money to pay for it.

I hear you. But I think there's something else going on. Crafts are still alive and growing, in some of the most surprising and unexpected places.  And it gets better than that. It turns out that there's a pretty simple set of conditions needed to sprout and cultivate a craft. Simple, but not easy.

This book is mostly about one craft that has already sprouted. Like a weed.