On a sticky Tuesday evening toward the end of summer, the air inside the Station North Tool Library smells of sawdust and magic. Projects by artisans of all skill levels are in the works. A handful of 20-somethings wander into the workshop around 6:30 p.m. to learn how to build a coffee table. To a newcomer, the piles of wooden planks and massive planer saws can seem daunting, but these folks have been here before—to take the prerequisite safety class, if nothing else—and know that in this quiet woodshop, anything is possible.

When class begins, instructor Sarah Hrovoski slowly pulls samples of wood from shelves and describes each kind, most of which are reclaimed from Remington’s Brick + Board salvage store, in detail—fir and pine are soft and sand nicely, maple is sturdy, mahogany’s color is rich. With fears cast aside, within an hour or so, each student has a rough design of their table, and then, sporting plastic safety goggles, they’re sawing, cutting, and sanding all manner of wood to bring their visions to reality.

“Everybody’s work is always different,” says Hrovoski, “which is really cool, considering the limitations in size and materials.”

In recent years, spaces such as the Tool Library have sprouted up across the city for those looking for weekend hobbies, after-work stress relief, or an education to launch a new profession or small business. We’ve all found ourselves in those post-grad and mid-career slumps. Whether you have a specific project in mind or just want to scratch a creative itch, chances are there’s a space and supportive community in Baltimore to help you see it through.

While traditional colleges and universities offer a variety of continuing education options, they typically involve a larger commitment, stricter schedule, and higher tuition than maker spaces like the Tool Library, The Foundery, Open Works, and many others. Through single classes, full-day passes, and annual memberships, these community hubs allow students of all ages and aptitudes to try their hand at a new trade. They also serve a need for existing artisans who no longer have access to tools, equipment, or workspace to continue honing their craft. Plus, advances in technology mean new ways to make things, and many of these spaces have added resources such as 3D printers and computer-controlled machines to their inventories. Many of the spaces’ founders want to lower the barriers between novice and expert by making shops, education, and resources more accessible.

So whether you’re looking to mold pottery, forge your own metalwork, or build a coffee table, Baltimore has a variety of spaces to help you break your Netflix habit and embrace your inner artisan. Here are a few of our favorites to help you get started.

Baltimore Clayworks

5707 Smith Ave., 410-578-1919

Since opening in 1980, Baltimore Clayworks has continued to grow and literally expand outwards, adding onto its original structure and opening a gallery and office space across the street, creating something of a miniature ceramics campus in the heart of Mt. Washington. Artful benches and a sculptural fountain adorn the walkways between the buildings and are perfect for hanging out and talking shop. But it’s the old brick building where the true magic happens.

Shelves of pottery-in-progress line the walls, chalkboards are filled with design concepts and instructions, and a wall of glaze samples shows some 144 combinations. Studios and classroom areas offer options for hand-building and wheel throwing. Several kilns fill the basement, while a beloved wood kiln is outside.

“People will come from two hours away, sleep on cots, take shifts through the night to use this kiln,” says Mary Cloonan, Clayworks’ exhibitions director. “You have to keep feeding it wood, so it becomes a community thing, keeping it going.”

Clayworks briefly closed last year, but with a new board installed, bankruptcy was averted, and the space reopened quickly, due in large part to its strong community of teachers and artists.

Clayworks offers open studio time so people can work at their own pace, and a range of courses offers a little something for everyone—from the serious student to the late-night bachelorette party, to three-hour “Try It” workshops where people can see how they like the art form. “Everyone starts somewhere,” Cloonan says. “Sometimes people just want to come make something and have fun.”

Baltimore Jewelry Center

10 E. North Ave., Suite 130, 410-243-0479

Not every city is so lucky to have a space dedicated solely to jewelry making.

In 2014, a group of Maryland Institute College of Art faculty members and students from the school’s now-defunct jewelry program founded the Baltimore Jewelry Center inside the Meadow Mill building in Woodberry. It’s now located in Station North, where artists sit at worktables beneath bright white lights and tediously take pliers to their pieces, pound metal with hammers, and painstakingly clip together fasteners and hinges. Exotic necklaces, small sculptures, and other one-of-a-kind pieces dangle above work stations and are clipped to desks and exhibited in gallery spaces.

The center is open seven days a week and supplies a variety of rough-and-tumble tools one might not expect to be associated with this decorative art form—kilns, grinders, sanders, saws, torches, and even a hydraulic press. Here, jewelry is fashioned from metal as well as unlikely materials including fiber and found objects. Other small pieces, like kitchenware and belt buckles, are made here, too.

Classes change each quarter to keep things fresh, ranging from two-day workshops and soldering bootcamps to a certification program. Several local college students take classes, notes one founder, April Wood, who serves as a studio manager and instructor here. “We build on their skills, and we provide a different community.”

The gallery offers artisans a chance to show off their unique and thought-provoking pieces, and it also serves as a way for the center to extend itself into the broader community through free art talks, social gatherings, and exhibits, which have included works by revered artists such as local jewelry designer Betty Cooke and beadwork artist Joyce Scott.

The Foundery

101 W. Dickman St., 855-936-2537

With the exception of the lobby and a break area with hot dogs and and Zeke’s coffee, The Foundery is one gigantic room that somewhat resembles a Home Depot—but this place is anything but a big box.

At nearly 20,000 square feet, the Port Covington maker space (once located on the corner of Pratt Street and Central Avenue) features a wide-open, industrial environment for craftspeople to share materials and sneak peeks at one another’s projects, which helps spark ideas. “Walls can be intimidating,” says CEO Jason Hardebeck, who was a nuclear engineer in the Navy before his Foundery days began. “When people start working with new materials, they tend to push the boundaries.”

“Anyone who has an idea can start their project here.”

One section of this sprawling space is reserved for old-timey blacksmithing, while massive computer-controlled machines run nearby, making metal signage, embroidered pillows, and custom-designed skateboards (Bustin Boards is a regular). They serve a niche for those who have started a business but haven’t reached the point of being able to justify buying a $10,000 machine. “We’re democratizing access,” says Hardebeck. “Anyone who has an idea can start their project here.” The space’s name reflects that idea; it’s purpose is to support founders.

The cacophony of machinery runs seven days a week, with artists dropping by to use the space and tools or to attend one of the 100 classes offered each month, like laser engraving, embroidery, bowl turning, Women Only Welding, or even making knives from scratch—and then going to a steak restaurant as a class to try them out. Unlike many other spaces, The Foundery will hold a class even if only one person signs up.

Open Works

1400 Greenmount Ave., 410-862-0424

Want to make a drone or learn how to 3D print your own sculpture? At this massive and modern Greenmount West maker space, you’ve come to the right place. Technologies that weren’t widely available some five to 10 years ago—or simply didn’t exist at all—can be found within this 34,000-square-foot facility, which opened in 2016.

Open Works acts as a starting point to try these new gadgets and gizmos, and many classes—even safety and beginner classes—involve some element of making, says executive director Will Holman, adding, “We’re here to lower barriers.” Membership gives you access to tools, workspace, and other resources, including computer software such as Adobe Creative Suite.

Meanwhile, graphic designers, copy editors, architects, and other artists fill 115 cubicles, creating a community that fosters a cross-pollination of ideas and expertise. Even sitting in the space is inspiring, as much of Open Works’ interior design elements were custom made right here. Plus, there’s a coffee shop on the ground floor that helps fuel even the greenest of makers into work mode.

Station North Tool Library

417 E. Oliver St., 410-347-0850

The Station North Tool Library prides itself on being an inclusive community shop that caters to the absolute beginner but also supports the high-level artisan. Here you can find more than 30 classes on everything from plumbing to handcrafting a coffee table from scratch.

What began as a lending library of tools (which still fill the front room) quickly expanded into classroom and workspace in 2014 as demand grew. A smaller classroom area was added this year.

“There was a skills gap between the tools we had in the library and the projects people wanted to take on,” says Arman Mizani, director of library services.

Traditionally, someone interested in woodworking would do an apprenticeship or attend a trade school, but “we’re trying to change the culture so that it’s not just an older man with the knowledge—it’s not this elitist thing,” says Chris Lavoie, who handles programming. “We want everyone to have access.”

The library offers sliding-scale membership rates for access to open studio time in addition to that extensive inventory of tools. Because it’s a relatively small space, some of the popular machines come with a 20-minute time limit, sometimes you have to share a table, and you always have to clean up after yourself. At the end of the day, the Tool Library team wants to maximize resources, but first and foremost build a supportive community. As Lavoie puts it, “People before projects.”

EXTRA CREATIVE

A few more spaces worth checking out.

Baltimore Hackerspace

Get geeky with the latest innovative technology in this East Baltimore maker space that brings computers, science, and digital art to the forefront.
6410 Landay Ave., 410-261-9691.

Baltimore Print Studios

Who says print is dead? This Station North print studio allows you access for letterpress and screenprinting projects, with introductory workshops each month to help you learn the machines.
18 W. North Ave.

Domesticity

This fabric shop and craft studio run by Christina Brunyate offers material (from kitschy to couture), classes (sewing, quilting, even macrame), and social nights.
4321 Harford Rd., 443-885-0369.

A Workshop of Our Own

Also known as WOO, this woodworking space in Woodberry is for women and gender non-conforming craftspeople and offers a variety of classes as well as open studio time.
1780 Union Ave., 443-449-5886.

Four Hour Day Lutherie

Want to build an instrument from scratch? Creative director Tyler St. Claire will show you the ropes. He also hosts concerts in the Lauraville space.
4305 Harford Rd., 410-637-3728.

Maker Practice

This new walk-in space offers craft kits that rotate every three months, allowing you to try your hand at making items such as leather totes or stained-glass windows.
721 Frederick Rd., Catonsville. 410-402-9125.

Impact Hub

While not technically a maker space, Impact Hub serves an important role for the maker community by providing free talks geared toward artists and small business owners.
10 E. North Ave., 443-821-7482.

For Adrienne Shevchuk, her amateur carpentry career began with an ambitious goal.

“I had this idea that I wanted to make my own dining room table,” she remembers with a laugh.

A 31-year-old executive assistant at the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, Shevchuk doesn’t come from a design or woodworking background. But six months after signing up for her first class at the Station North Tool Library, she had built an entire kitchen island for her Hampden home—right down to the tapered legs and butcher-block top milled from wood that she picked up from a salvage yard in East Baltimore.

Although woodworking was new to her, Shevchuk tends a raised-bed garden in her backyard, and has been canning and pickling produce from local farms for the past three years. Outgoing and spunky, with dark, shoulder-length hair shaved on the right side of her head, she also has taken ceramics courses at the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) for fun, as well as a sense of purpose and individuality.

“Even if my mugs look like crap, which my first semester’s did, they are way better to me than going to Target and buying mass-produced mugs that thousands of other people have. I’ve always liked the idea of doing things myself,” continues Shevchuk, who now has a number of the tool lending library’s workshops under her belt, from cutting boards and coffee tables to a chef’s knife class, where she walked away with a beautiful—and utilitarian—blade forged from a rectangular piece of steel and a block of wood. “Making that knife was pretty much the most empowering thing I’ve ever done.”

Aside from the satisfaction of creating something by hand, Shevchuk says the time spent working with wood remains a welcome escape from the stress of modern life and the tedium of staring at a computer screen all day. “It’s an outlet for me, after sitting in the cube during the week, to go on a Tuesday night and spend three hours building something,” she says. “It kind of wakes you up. I also think there’s some draw to returning to the idea of being an expert in a trade.”

Shevchuk may have become an unexpected woodworker, but her experience is not unique. She’s actually part of a burgeoning collective of hobbyists, craftsmen, and amateur and professional artisans in Baltimore who are coming together with a desire to learn and share both new and bygone skills in the Internet age via workshops, apprenticeships, and “makerspaces.” (Makerspace: a community studio where people share their do-it-yourself processes, equipment, and ethos.)

Still somewhat under the radar, the city’s DIY community has grown significantly in the past five years, with the opening of hands-on working and teaching spaces across the city. Before the Tool Library opened in 2013, for example, Baltimore Print Studios launched its letterpress and screenprinting studio in Station North. Two years ago, Boomspace, a tech and workforce development center, got its start in McElderry Park, and when MICA discontinued its jewelry center, several artists banded together and launched the Baltimore Jewelry Center, now at the renovated Center Theatre on North Avenue.

Earlier this year, The Foundery, a tools, training, and metalworking makerspace, moved into its new 20,000-square-foot space at the City Garage innovation hub in Port Covington. And finally, this fall, Open Works, the highly anticipated, creative studio space developed by the nonprofit Baltimore Arts Realty Corporation (BARCO) will launch in a 34,000-square-foot warehouse across from Greenmount Cemetery.

“People [my age] are trying to bring production down to a smaller scale.”

Although the boom in DIY enterprises and makerspacers may feel new, the ideas and values driving the phenomenon have been bubbling for a while. They’re part of a broader cultural movement related to the renewed interest in urban farming ushered in by millennials moving back to cities, industry experts say.

“Maybe 10 to 15 years ago, when the term DIY got really popular, we saw a resurgence of urban farming and things that are associated with people of my age group who are interested in trying to bring production down to a smaller scale that someone can do on their own,” says 33-year-old Andy Cook, a planner with Baltimore City’s Office of Sustainability. “I would hesitate to say it’s a return to something necessarily old—some of these enterprises are technologically advanced—although some things are definitely [a throwback]. We talk about makerspaces like they are new, but I’m sure they were called workshops a hundred years ago.”

Ultimately there’s a limit to the number of people interested in these things, Cook continues, but he adds that he doesn’t believe that ceiling has been reached. “I don’t think everyone realizes they can be empowered in this way, and that’s something the makerspaces in town are especially good for—showing people it’s within their reach. I hope it helps us get to a point where, yeah, more people are making their own stuff instead of ordering it from Amazon.”

Letta Moore, 37, of Knits, Soy & Metal, says that before she quit her job as a marketing director for a real-estate company in September to go full-time with her handmade scarf, candle, and jewelry brand, she didn’t realize the extent of the DIY culture in the city. But in just the past few months, she has been embraced by the colony of craft-oriented entrepreneurs like her in Baltimore, who she says are all about building each other up. “I didn’t even know this huge community existed prior to becoming a ‘maker,’” Moore says. “I’ve worked with so many amazing people, either through vending or using their products myself, and they’re all very supportive.”

Moore feels the physical act of creation is a basic human instinct that has been somewhat lost because of the convenience of modern technology. She adds it’s both an appreciation of that process and a set of skills that she wants to instill in her 16-year-old daughter. “This is going to sound absolutely absurd,” she says, “but knowing that I actually have created something—it’s almost like giving birth. It’s like I’ve brought something into this world that is a reflection of me. I [also] think it’s important that people know how to do things with their hands, because what if at some point technology isn’t available anymore?”

To better connect the city’s growing DIY community and help develop commercial opportunities for startup enterprises, Piper Watson of the Station North Tool Library and Mark Huson of Baltimore Node—a diverse maker group that includes electronics, digital fabrication, wood and metalworking members—discussed the idea of a maker “congress.” With help from several leaders in the local community, including Cook and Will Holman from BARCO, the broad-based Industrial Arts Collective (IAC) formed in the summer of 2014.

Cook attended one of the first IAC meetings to recruit for a city project to reuse vacant industrial buildings; he was looking to identify small businesses in need of warehouse space. “While people definitely felt like they needed more space for production, the more immediate concern for most was retail,” he says. Cook worked with Holman to apply for a grant to hold a pop-up shop where sprouting artisans could sell their goods. “And that became the first real IAC project.”

Following that initial IAC pop-up event in Station North, membership in the collective doubled. Today, the IAC has more than 130 members and holds several pop-up shops throughout the year. At its holiday 2015 event, more than 80 city businesses participated and sold goods.

At North Avenue’s Baltimore Print Studios, husband-and-wife founders Kyle Van Horn and Kim Bentley manage a screenprinting and letterpress studio and teach monthly workshops, all on machinery dating from the 1880s to 1980s. “Not much of the equipment or tools for it are being made new today, so new people are using old equipment to make new stuff,” says Van Horn. “People are excited to get back to the roots of design.”

“Especially designers who have grown up in the digital era,” adds Bentley, explaining that the terminology used in computer programs is based off of physical objects that designers can hold in their hands at the shop. “People who understand what ‘leading’ is, which is the space between lines of type, their eyes bug out a little bit when they see the leading is made of lead, and it’s measured in points and picas, and it’s a real thing,” says Bentley. “And the name has meaning suddenly.”

In addition to designers who yearn for a pre-Photoshop way of doing things, Bentley and Van Horn say the shop’s goal is to enable people to become their own producers. When a couple called asking for their wedding invitations to be printed, Van Horn offered to teach the bride-to-be how to make them herself. “I think it’s surprising to them how achievable that is with just a bit of training and access to the right equipment,” Van Horn says. “We’re teaching a craft and we’re teaching people they can do the task themselves.”

“It’s the tangible object at the end of the day . . . the fruits of your labor.”

Make Tribe, which plans pop-up workshops and skill suppers, takes the concept of maker culture and turns it into a comprehensive entertainment experience. Attendees learn a skill and meet new people, venues are able to attract new audiences, and makers can test the waters by hosting their first workshop. After the first pop-up—a sold-out 30-person terrarium-building workshop in 2013—word about the events quickly spread.

“It was when the workshop movement was first starting to get underway—people were really excited about it and it felt like something new,” says owner and co-founder Jessica D’Argenio Waller, 30.

At a Make Tribe event last fall at Church & Company in Hampden, Jess Schreibstein, known as “The Kitchen Witch,” instructed some 15 guests in the basics of herbalism while they sipped on drinks by Artifact Coffee in a room lit by candles and string lights. In addition to the one-time events, Make Tribe hosts a twice-monthly knitting meetup, known as K1P1. “I think people have an inherent desire to work with their hands and get back to their roots a little bit, especially with all the technology surrounding us these days and the sort of go-go-go attitude that’s very prevalent,” Waller reflects. “It’s nice to take time out for something like making a scarf or even gardening and cooking.”

While she doesn’t eschew technology—in fact, Waller credits social media apps like Instagram for connecting makers with common interests—she still prefers some analog ways of doing things, like reading a hardcover book or cooking by candlelight. “It’s the tangible object at the end of the day where you can really see the fruits of your labor, and see the skill and the process that went into it,” she says. “Whether it’s exactly what you intended to make or not, just having the final product in your hands is such a rewarding experience.”

From the lending desk at the entrance of the Station North Tool Library, where more than 15,000 loans have been completed in its three years, sculptor and woodworking instructor Hannah Wides reflects on the human inclination to build and create physical objects, a yearning the library is finally able to fulfill for so many.

The process of creation itself can be meditative, says the soft-spoken Wides, a petite 26-year-old, wearing a knit cap and canvas work jacket. “It’s a form of self-discipline. It definitely has changed the way I think and work,” she says. “With woodworking, you have to be all in, all the time. You can’t just phase out. I think people like that.”

The Tool Library also prides itself on making its classes approachable, and more than half of Wides’s workshop students are women. It’s something she can relate to as a young woman in an often male-dominated industry. “Here it’s super woman-positive, queer friendly, and just really open. Nobody is trying to tell anyone how to do it right,” she explains.

“When I talk to people, they’re like, ‘Can you show me how to do this? I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.’ Maybe it’s always been in people’s brains but they’ve never had the resources. They come in, and their eyes light up.

“I’ve never seen people so excited to see tools,” she continues, gesturing to the shelves and racks of handsaws, hammers, ladders, and generators, as the sound of a table saw whirs in the background. “You don’t see that excitement in Lowe’s or Home Depot. There’s a kid in a candy shop delight when they come in for the first time.”

When the MICA Jewelry Center closed in early 2014, Baltimore jewelry makers were without a location to create and learn.

That is, until the Baltimore Jewelry Center opened its new location at The Centre in 2015. The East North Avenue space, started by teachers and students from MICA’s old center, now serves as the city’s jewelry hub.

Last fall, Baltimore’s own Betty Cooke, Joyce J. Scott, and Shana Kroiz were featured in the inaugural exhibition, “Passing from One Hand.” Program director Shane Prada says opening night saw nearly 250 attendees and many more visited throughout the exhibit’s run. Some who passed through even had old ties with the artists.

“We had a couple people come by who were students of Betty’s when she taught at MICA in the ’50s, which was really special,” Prada says.

The center’s January exhibition, “Co:Operation: Garnish,” features collaborative pieces each made by two different artists of different disciplines and creative processes. Aside from exhibitions, the center features four to six artists’ talks a year and a variety of classes, where novices and old hands alike can learn how to set stones, craft necklaces, create flatware, and more. (Kroiz herself teaches electroforming, anodizing, and soldering classes.) Class lengths vary from a single day to a full 12 weeks. Skilled makers who simply want a convenient space in which to work can rent a bench without being enrolled.

Kroiz hopes that the center will breed change in the way Baltimore views jewelry. And Joyce Scott encourages people to look past the center’s North Avenue address.

“Do not be frightened by the supposed problems that will happen in this neighborhood,” she says. “If you support endeavors like this jewelry center, then this whole area—the entire city—will be able to gain from it.”