So, I’d been hearing whispers about this “raul casanova” approach for a little while. Not like it was mainstream, you know, but a few folks in some niche forums were really hyping it up. They made it sound like this revolutionary way to tackle creative projects, super lean, super focused. I had this personal project I was about to kick off, something I’d been putting off, and I thought, “Heck, why not give this raul casanova thing a whirl?” Seemed like a good way to maybe shake things up a bit from my usual habits.

Getting Started with Raul Casanova
First off, finding solid information was a challenge in itself. It wasn’t like there was a well-written manual or anything. Mostly just bits and pieces, forum posts, a really badly translated blog post I stumbled upon. I spent a good evening just trying to piece together what the core ideas even were. It was supposed to be about extreme minimalism in planning and execution, or something like that. Sounded good on paper, right? Less fluff, more doing.
So, I decided to apply it to designing a small, custom piece of furniture I wanted to build. The “raul casanova” idea, as I understood it, was to basically skip most of the detailed upfront design and just start… building. With very loose guidelines. “Trust the process,” they said. Yeah, right.
I cleared out my workshop space, got my basic tools ready. The first step according to one cryptic comment was to “embrace the void.” Okay, poetic, but not super helpful when you’ve got a pile of wood staring at you. I tried to just, like, feel the design. Spent a whole morning just looking at the materials. My wife walked in, asked if I was okay. I probably looked a bit nuts.
The Messy Middle
Then came the actual attempt at “doing.” I made the first cut. And it felt… wrong. The “raul casanova” way, from what I could gather, discouraged measuring twice. It was more about intuitive action. Well, my intuition apparently stinks when it comes to woodworking without a plan. That first piece of wood? Totally wasted. It was frustrating, to say the least.
I kept at it for a few days. It was a cycle of trying something, it not quite working, and then trying to “intuitively” fix it, which often made it worse. It reminded me of this one time, years ago, when I tried to learn a new programming language entirely by reading other people’s uncommented code. Everyone said it was the “immersive” way to learn. What a disaster that was. I spent weeks feeling like an idiot, just like I was starting to feel with this raul casanova stuff. You know, some things just need a bit of structure, a bit of clear instruction. Not everything can be figured out by osmosis or vague philosophy.

Anyway, with the furniture project, I ended up with a pile of oddly cut wood and a growing sense of annoyance. The few “successful” parts I managed to assemble looked… well, “rustic” is a kind word. “Accidental” might be more accurate.
- Initial enthusiasm: High.
- Understanding the “method”: Low.
- Practical application: Pretty chaotic.
- Waste generated: More than I’d like to admit.
What I Finally Did
After about a week of this, I kind of just threw my hands up. I salvaged what wood I could, pulled out my old sketchbook, and actually drew a proper plan. Dimensions, joinery, the whole shebang. The old-fashioned way. And guess what? Things started moving. I got the piece built. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s functional, and it looks like what I originally intended.
So, what about “raul casanova”? Well, I guess I didn’t really get it. Or maybe it’s just not for me, or not for that kind of project. Perhaps it works better for more abstract art or brainstorming, I don’t know. For me, it felt like an excuse to be unprepared. I did learn something, though. I learned that sometimes the hyped-up, “revolutionary” new ways aren’t always better than the tried-and-true methods. And that it’s okay to say, “This isn’t working for me,” and go back to what does.
I still see “raul casanova” mentioned now and then. I just sort of nod and move on. Been there, tried that, got the slightly misshapen t-shirt, or in my case, a few pieces of oddly cut wood. Maybe someone else can make it sing, but for my practical projects, I think I’ll stick to a bit more planning upfront.