Forming puddles of wood glue into big orange slabs is about experimentation and play, like melting crayons in the toaster into the shape of cupcakes.  

I checked on them each morning like they were plants. Every few days I poured a small amount of glue from a gallon jug out into a smooth pool. As the glue began to dry, I obsessively investigated the fragile milk-skin surface for bubbles or hair, which I picked at like acne.   Unattended glue puddles sometimes seeped over the edge of the table, drying into incriminating stalactites.