Finding Joseph Walsh’s studio outside the rural two-pub village of Riverstick was trying. Cell reception was spotty, and many of the addresses were written as names instead of numbers. But when I finally drove through the Walsh-designed wooden gates – I saw the search was worth it. Inside his 17th-century thatch-roofed cottage and workshop, half a dozen woodworkers were forming slices of ash trees into loops, curls, waves and lines. The furniture resembled calligraphy, and seemed like nothing less than expressions of pure joy.