
As I write this, we’re awaiting proofs on our latest pocket book, “Make Fresh Milk Paint,” by Nick Kroll. Nick was in one of Christopher Schwarz’s Germany classes this summer, and he showed up with a hand-bound book about making milk paint in your kitchen. Chris sent an email to Kara Gebhart Uhl (she handles contracts for us) and me that night with a PDF of the book, letting us know he thought it was a winner.
We all agreed, and have since been busy making milk paint in our Covington shop. It’s so much fun (and simple) to make, and the paint results in a rich and gorgeous finish, plus it doesn’t cost much. It’s rare that you get cheap, easy and good, all at the same time!

The book will be printed in the U.S. (like all of our books). This one features a “Hot Toffee” cover (that’s mustard yellow to you and me) and garnet end papers – vibrant, like the paint. Barring problems at the printer or bindery, we expect it will be available before Thanksgiving.
Below is a sneak peek, Nick’s introduction.
– Fitz
Make Milk Paint
The howling silence of sterile, lifeless paint swatches. The dented tin lid that imprisons your creative soul in a mass-produced can of petrochemical swill. The gnawing anxiety of spending your Saturday morning standing in the fluorescent-washed aisle of a big-box retailer, trying to convince yourself that Hessian Taupe is the sensible buy.
It doesn’t have to be like this.
It’s OK to hate paint. We all do. Our collective contempt for industrial paint is so deeply ingrained that we close the container by hammering the lid shut like we’re trying to kill an E.T. with a tire iron. To be fair, that animosity goes both ways. The second you two are alone in a room together, that zesty blend of plasticizer and industrial solvent hits back with noxious volatile organic compounds (VOCs) that can inflict solid damage per second on a cellular level.
Even if you find a low-VOC paint in a color you like, you’re still likely dropping at least $20-$30 a pint at your local PaintTM retailer. That’s more than Jiffy Plasma would pay you for a pint of your own sweet blood. And unless everything you build ends up with two coats of Walton’s Own Eggshell Sage from a 5-gallon pail, you’re going to have to keep buying paint at that stiff price point. Even if you drop $100+ bucks, you’d still be locked in to only three to four colors, like a pack of kids’ menu crayons. Of course, once you pay that much, you can’t throw out the leftovers, right? What started as a fun project turns into overpriced chemical soup that’s gelling up on a basement shelf like week-old ham.
I’m here to free you. All we need is a bit of barnyard alchemy. Let us talk milk paint, elemental in nature and humble in its glory.
Making a batch of top-grade milk paint from scratch takes 10 minutes and costs less than five bucks. It has zero VOCs. It’s durable. It’s easy to apply. It looks fantastic. The color options are limitless. And you’ll have made it with your own hands.
You’re here because you like making things yourself. You can buy paint off the shelf just like you can buy furniture at Ikea – yet here we are. Paint should be the finishing touch on a labor of love, not a cheap shell that hides your hard work. You’ve spent hours cutting rabbets for a bookshelf and tapering the legs for a staked bench. Don’t stumble on the home stretch. Your handmade furniture shouldn’t be buried under a nano-homogenized ooze that smothers out every last bit of depth and character.
Come with me. Let’s set off on a journey to free your creative instincts. We’ll get lost blending pigments and chasing fleeting hues. We’ll defy the unyielding beast of corporate commerce and shun all the bitter progeny of the refinery. We’ll make something we love, for the ones we love.
Let’s make milk paint.

I’m not talking about mixing up a batch of the ready-mix powdered paint. I’m talking about taking fresh milk and making great paint. I know you can do this. It’s not hard, and you don’t need any special equipment. It’s a quick learning curve and there’s no risk. I started right where you are today – and by the end of the weekend, you’ll be on the fast track to catching up.
If you can make a pot of mac and cheese, then you can make milk paint from scratch. Making milk paint is easier than making bread, bathing a dog, putting on a duvet cover, staying awake in church or carving a pumpkin. Honestly, it’s easier than practically any woodworking task. I’m not even talking hand-cut dados or perfect dovetails – if you’ve glued up a butt joint, you have more technical skill than you’ll need to make milk paint.
This isn’t a treatise on period-accurate finishes for Shaker purists. This isn’t trad-life cosplay or Luddite revivalism. This is a guide to making damn good paint. I’m writing this for everyone who is tired of every microplastic and macrotoxin being dumped into our homes. This is for anyone who wants to be able to take a single breath without being squeezed into a transaction. This is for anyone who just wants to live in a world that’s a little more colorful.
There’s a German word, ohrwurm, to describe a song you can’t get out of your head. To be fair, “homemade milk paint” is perhaps a bit closer to a brainworm, carving out a little beachhead of gentle obsession in your mind while your loved ones begin to wonder about your mental state. But soon you’ll thank me and this little worm.
Let’s begin.
