Patrick's & Amy's dining table

Oh, man, I've been waiting for a project like this to come my way for a long time. Can you guess why?

A. I get to use some beautiful, rare and locally significant wood that I've been hoarding for a long time.
B. The design tells a story about the people it is for.
C. Both A & B

If you guessed A & B, you are correct.

A few weeks ago I received an email from my clients Patrick and Amy, who were referred to me by their friend... Patrick, a former client and fellow record collector.

Patrick and Amy were looking for a simple dining table, so we met and drank some fancy beer, talked about vinyl records, maple trees, the Redwood Forest, conservation and lots of other stuff that helped me learn a little more about what was important for their space. A few days later, I came up with a design that combines maple with reclaimed redwood originally used in the casks of the now defunct Falstaff Brewery (check out this passionately put together, yet terrible geocities-like fansite for more info. about Falstaff). Even though I've never had Falstaff beer, I do like beer; that's just a fact. I also like Omaha-related history, so I guess I'm 2-for-2 with this one.

There isn't much of this redwood floating around the area anymore, so it's going to be a special opportunity to make a piece that will hopefully be a significant part of Patrick's and Amy's home life for a very long time. I'll be balancing time on this project with another project utilizing reclaimed wood, while finishing up a trio of cherry bar stools for my aunt and uncle. I guess all in all, life it pretty good.

An altar

I'm back from a brief vacation with friends on coastal North Carolina. Tomorrow I'll get started on two brand new commissions.

The first is a small altar for my client and former classmate, Andrea. An altar is not exactly a common piece of furniture. I doubt you'll find anything like it at NFM or Ikea. So it's the type of one-of-a-kind object I love to have a chance to make. I'm also honored to have been asked to make a piece that will fill such a central role in someone's life. I've designed a few chairs for specific individuals. Doing so is like creating a tiny building for that person - something that is sort of an extension of their body. It seems that an altar might play a similar role for a person, though more metaphysically. 

The project will also use all reclaimed wood and natural pigment, water-based milk paint. The color in the picture below is a little off; it'll actually be a little greener and a little brighter, or so that's the plan anyway.

Speaking of color, if you've been at any of the several events at CAMP lately (or just dropped in to hang out or do some work) you might have seen this massive tabletop I made for them. Like Andrea's altar will be, it's also colored with milk paint. The metal base was apparently leftover from the old Mastercraft Furniture company, so it was compelling that we got to repurpose something that had a connection to the old space. And in case you were wondering, that dude in the photo is Stevie "RDQLUS" Gordon, who I'd followed with some interest on Twitter for several months, but had never had a chance to meet until I stopped by to take this picture. Be sure to check out his RDQLUS portfolio of design work at RDQLUS Creative.

Habitat in a Birdhouse

Usually when I finish a project, regardless of what it is, the flaws - real or perceived - are what I most notice. Maybe it's because I've been looking at the same piece for so long; or maybe I'm too hard on myself. But when I delivered a table to my client Jessica at her new Birdhouse Collectible space in the Mastercraft building (1111 N. 13th St.), I had a different feeling: I felt confident and inspired.

Jessica's table started with a few ideas. She wanted a piece that had a modern, feminine quality. She also talked about how much she liked zebrawood, which besides being prohibitively expensive, is also kind of on my environmentally unfriendly list. I'm not sure, but I'm guessing it's grown in a rain forest or similarly deforested, tropical area. Ultimately, I came up with a curvy cornered, spalted hackberry top with planks joined at irregular angles. The walnut legs curved at each outside corner and slightly tapered and angled out as they approached the floor. As you can see when comparing the original drawing to the the finished photos, I stayed pretty true to the design... with one major exception. What's that red stuff, you ask? No, I didn't hit an artery on the table saw; and the table was not a prop in "Resovoir Dogs". The red splatters and rivulets red marks are resin cast into the surface of the wood. They were also a solution to an unexpected problem with the material.

I bought the hackberry for Jessica's table at a sawmill in Silver City, IA. Most of it was rough cut, meaning the boards hadn't yet been run through a thickness planer to make their surfaces smooth and uniform. To my chagrin, there were wormholes winding across and straight through every board, the remnants of a society of bugs that apparently had once inhabited a stack of boards. I had run across this problem in the past, and had thought of using resin to fill the flawed faces of the boards. This time, it created an opportunity to pull the design together and make the piece more strongly connected to Jessica's business and space. I don't use esoteric titles very often, but in this case, I called the table "Habitat". I'm making more objects - furniture pieces and sculptural forms - that use resin casting while simultaneously casting a spotlight on the complex life of raw materials.

Did I mention that Birdhouse Collectible is a sort of showroom and gallery? It just so happens that I have a few other pieces for sale in the space. If you're interested in seeing those pieces, checking out the Habitat table and more, the Birdhouse Collectible Open House is a perfect opportunity. Come by next Saturday, August 21 from 6 - . I hope to see you there.

Summer CAMP

The other day I got a phone call from Eric Downs of Downs Design, asking if I could make a simple, affordable conference table top for the new CAMP grounds in the Mastercraft building. Eric, and Megan of Princess Lasertron fame just started CAMP. They have some seriously talented neighbors, including Birdhouse Interior Design, Secret Penguin, What Cheer and minor white studio. I'm privileged to contribute a little something to another of these energized spaces. Here's a simple version of what I came up with:

Eric procured a metal frame, so I decided to add a series of boards milled at different widths and joined together as a surface would add some texture and depth to the piece. I'll use milk paint - a forgotten product made widely available commercially again fairly recently - to add a modern color palette. Milk paint is an environmentally safe paint made from natural, dry pigments. You just add some water and brush on a soft, rich surface.

The whole table will be finished and sealed to combat the inevitable coffee cup rings that will accompany the hoards of Macbook users who gather around to create the next generation of websites, apps and programs.

The skinny on milling around

I spent most of Thursday near the small town of Carson, Iowa, at my woodworking pal Skip's house. I met Skip soon after Niz and I got married at Skip's cousin, Eddith's house. He found out I do some woodworking and invited me to help the next time he milled some logs. The 'next time' was Thursday, and it was the most entertaining and educational experience I've had since I visited Thailand earlier this year.
I've visited a couple local sawmills but have never seen the portable milling process that Skip's sawyer buddy, Andy, orchestrated Thursday.

We started by loading single logs onto a stationary frame. Andy operated a series of hydraulics to turn and stabilize each log against the frame. Next, he positioned the portable mill's blade - which is essentially a sideways bandsaw - for the correct depth, and cut the log into a square pillar, rotating the log 1/4 turn after each cut in order to remove most of the bark. When the log was squared, Andy cut 5/4" thick (that's 1 & 1/4" thick) strips from the log, rotating it occasionally in order to make the ideal piece of lumber each time. As the blade finished each cut, we pulled the freed slabs of lumber away and placed them on a series of drying racks. Surprisingly, the freshly cut wet, or "green" lumber was about the same color as the dry wood will be.

The day was not without a couple hiccups. One of the logs Skip was most excited about milling was a long, straight trunk of ash. Skip was having the log quartersawn (if interested in a quick, reliable tutorial about the differences in how wood is milled, go here). Sometimes, particularly with oak logs, this milling process results in revealing a unique and desirable surface grain highlighted by a sort of pattern of reflective... flecks. Boards cut this way also tend to be more stable, in terms of their reaction to humidity.

Unfortunately, as the ash log was being cut in half, the blade ran into a nail. And a piece of wire. Likely, they were part of a farmer's fence decades ago, and had grown into the tree over time.  Even a small piece of metal like a nail can take a major toll on a saw blade. Usually, nails and other pieces of metal (bullets and similar shrapnel are also common) are found by running a hand-held metal detector across the surface of each log. However, these surprise pieces were buried deep inside the tree. The dark spot near the middle of each half of the log shown at right is a stain in the vicinity occupied by the nail. These annoyances were balanced by the fact that the weather couldn't have been milder for July and I didn't lose any fingers.

By the end of the day we'd milled several logs of cherry, walnut, ash, burr oak (our region's version of white oak) and hickory, all harvested from Skip's land. The lumber will rest on Skip's drying rack for about a year, at which time I'll head back over to Carson and collect my wood-wages for the day. More importantly, I have a better understanding of a fundamental step in bringing a tree into fruition as a new object.

A dining table delivered

This past Sunday I borrowed my in-laws' truck and took a short drive to Lincoln to deliver a cherry dining table to my wonderful client Charles and his husband, Jeff. I spent about 4 years making the Omaha-Lincoln-Omaha commute for a previous job, but hadn't done it for several months. It was nice to get out on the Interstate again, especially accompanied by Little Steven's Underground Garage channel on Sirius XM satellite radio, which I already miss. I constantly listen to music while I'm working. Omaha's radio stations leave much to be desired and I refuse to buy an iPod. Since it's too dusty in the shop for my turntable (and the road is a little too bumpy), it seems like satellite radio could be an adequate stand-in. But anyway, back to the table.

Charles' and Jeff's table was my first experience using a set of table extenders, as well as with making removable leaves. I chose to complicate things a bit by adding a yellowheart and paduak inlay pattern on both edges of the leaves to continue and grow the center design. Generally, the project went well, other than that I learned the hard way that using wood that isn't perfectly flat for the leaves can be a little problematic. Lesson learned.

Thanks to Charles and Jeff for giving me the opportunity to create a unique piece that will be a daily part of their home life for many years to come.

New people, places & directions

This afternoon I spent a couple hours squaring the edges of several planks of hackberry that I brought back from my most recent visit to Silver Creek Sawmill in Iowa. These boards, along with legs cut from the thickest plank of walnut I've ever seen, will eventually come together as a conference table for my new friend Jessica, owner of Birdhouse Interior Design. I had the pleasure of meeting Jessica a couple months ago, having followed her and the development of her business on Twitter for a while. Our ideas about design and affordability seem to mesh pretty well and I'm excited to work with her as she takes her business to the next level.

Jessica's new digs - and the conference table's new home - will be a beautifully lit parcel in the space formerly occupied by the Mastercraft Furniture Company, and which also houses the new CAMP Coworking Space. Am I jealous? Um, yes. It's exciting to see so many creative people working around each other, moving their ideas and passions forward.

Here's a simple drawing of the basic table design, sans an element that will add some additional color, contrast and life to the piece to tie it all together.

This table is particularly exciting for me because it is a shift in direction and technique. The planks that make up the top will join to one another a various angles. The legs will be tapered and rounded by hand on one corner to match the contour of the top.  I'm also trying a new technique that will include using cast resin. More on that later.

The pork is cooked perfectly, or, a few thoughts on "Work of Art: The Next Great Artist"

Last night I turned on the television to see if it would lull me to sleep. I flipped the channels and stopped, by default, on the Bravo network. The show that was on was a re-airing of Work of Art: The Next Great Artist.

For those unfamiliar with the show, Work of Art casts a dozen or so artists - mostly of the "emerging" set, it seems - in a series of art making contests, with the winner to be crowned the next great artist, whatever that might mean. Essentially, it's an art version of the network's other highly popular series', such as Top Chef and Project Runway. As the show airs week-to-week, the contestants live together in a posh loft and compete with each other to make art within a distinct set of criteria. They're judged and artists are eliminated one-by-one. Last night's episode required contestants to use discarded and antiquated technology to create a sculpture.

Initially, I scoffed at the idea of this show. TV + art + fabricated contests seemed preposterous and contrary to what art is supposed to be about. Actually, it made me feel very uncomfortable. I thought, How could artists who respect themselves, their work and creative process succumb to the temptation to give themselves over to a contest? Forget the potentially lucrative commercial effect an appearance on such a show could produce. The whole idea smacks of insincerity.

At the conclusion of what I saw - admittedly I missed the very beginning of the episode - I realized it was more than my initial reaction that made me feel uncomfortable. My contempt moved (mostly) away from a critique of the artists' collective and individual motivations for participating and their graduate student sense of general self-importance. Instead, I realized the unidentifiable quality that made me feel so agitated about the whole thing was the separation between the events of the show and the audience seeming to experience the events of the show. More pointedly, it's the way the audience is left to observe the critique of the artists' works, as if our participation as viewers makes us intimate insiders in the conversation that takes place around the judges table.

In the show, several respected members of the art world (seasoned critic with English accent, middle-aged New York gallery owner, established found object sculptor, and so on) as well as the contestants themselves, (whose comments seemed to be selectively included for dramatic effect, btw) pass judgement on the contestants worthiness to be called the next-great-artist. The composition, presentation and attitude of the judges comes off as 1 part informed, canonical criticism, and 2 parts gossipy vamping for the cameras. Its what we're supposed to think the art world is all about, particularly the New York art world, the supposed epicenter of all things art.

But this is the real problem of the show. Like its Runway and Top Chef compatriots (and most "reality TV") Work of Art disguises realism with melodrama. Viewers see glimpses of the artists' work and process, but its patronizing. Just as we're left to experience how tasty as chef's meal must be through the soft-core noshing of a set of expert judges, we're told what to think about each artists work. This effectively - and purposely - cuts off any opportunity to participate in a meaningful dialogue about art, much less actually think about it for ourselves. We are teased with bits of conflict among the artists. A tender and damaged contestant with OCD laments about how "distractingly boring" another artist's orderly and minimal(!) work is. One of the judges brazenly likens an installation to a window display. Collective agreement is reached, verdicts are read off and we're told what is successful without actually experiencing anything for ourselves. But we've seen all the footage, so they must be right, right?

I can't help thinking, Is the seriousness of the contestants/judges sincere? Does the show itself become some sort of conceptual work? Have the participants transcended their purported artistic roles and become subjects in another work entirely? Is the whole thing just cleverness and drama disguised as art? These are the kinds of questions that could make this sort of show interesting, but are nowhere to be found. Perhaps they're implied, or maybe they don't matter. Either way, I get the feeling the producers don't care. After all, it's hard to take seriously a show that's incessantly peppered with promo spots for a series of shows about over-ripe bimbos that represent "real housewives".

For those interested in participating in a real dialogue about and with art, there are several good places to start. One is the monthly art quiz at the Bemis Underground. It's the brainchild of artist Wanda Ewing and BU curator Brigitte McQueen. For a more personal, educational experience, head upstairs to a First Thursday Art Talk, featuring the ever-changing flow of Bemis Center residents and guest artists. And sure, there are plenty of other opportunities outside the Bemis Center too.

Unlike Work of Art, these kinds of real activities allow you to participate and observe from the inside of the fishbowl. You can draw your own conclusions and experiences, English accent or not.

- Peter -

Charles' & Jeff's Dining Table

Here are a couple simple drawings of one of several tables I'm in the midst of making. This one is a dining table for my clients Charles and Jeff, who live in Lincoln. Aside from the legs, which will be slightly tapered, this is basically what the finished piece will look like. This piece continues my series of objects inspired in part by quilt patterns, though employed here in a subtler way here.

This, and another dining table I'm working on simultaneously, are my first forays into tables with leaves. For both I'll use a set of extenders that attach under each table top, allowing the top to separate in the center so the leaves can be dropped in.

For this design, the long side of each leaf includes 1/2 of a star pattern, which will allow the center star design to grow and continue as each leaf is added. The star inlays are paduak and yellowheart, and the table structure is cherry.

Cheers,

Peter

A little philanthropy

Tis the season for benefits, and over the next couple of weeks there are two with which I have the pleasure of being involved in small ways.

First up is the 2nd annual American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) fundraiser. This year's fundraiser, which includes a silent art auction, takes place at  Dixie Quick's/RNG Gallery next Thursday, May 13 from 5:30pm - 8:30pm. I don't know a lot about the AFSP, and I don't have any real connection with them; what I do know is that they do some difficult work with people who have some serious problems. So donating the quilted walnut mosaic side table (viewable to your immediate left and right) is the least I can do to lend a hand. Details, tickets, etc. can be found on the AFSP website.


The second, a $100 Art Sale Fundraiser at - and for the benefit of - the Bemis Underground, takes place May 21 (and 22, though I doubt much will be left by then). The title says it all. Lots of art all priced at $100. This might sound familiar, as Brigitte McQueen, the newish curator of the Bemis Underground, hosted a similar and successful $100 sale at her former Pulp gallery. I didn't make it to that sale for fear of a thick crowd. My disdain for large crowds will likely make me a no-show for this show, but I am donating this small paduak and cherry side table (to the right and left), which is part of my ongoing series of mosaic patterned pieces. Yeah, it's kinda small, but hey, it's only $100 bucks and it is a working table, so there you go.

I've worked with and for a number of not-for-profit organizations over the past several years. I have a pretty good understanding of their importance to a community and the difficulty of raising money and resources to keep their programs afloat and staffs paid. The Bemis Center particularly has played a major role in providing me with opportunities to develop and take chances as an artist and designer.

My $.2 for both events: go, and go early. We may still be in a recession, but $100 art is still $100 art. I would say, "See you there," but... you know... the crowds and all. Similarly, silent auctions are usually opportunities to get deals. And there will be Dixie Quick's food there. And drinks. So... see you there.

Works in Progress

Here's a sneak-peek of a work-in-progress, non-furniture piece I'm working on in my spare time. Like several of the smaller tables I've been making over the last 6 months or so, this piece works on a 30/60-degree angle star pattern. People regularly assume these pieces are created using an inlay. However, inlay (as either marquetry or parquetry) involves placing a pattern or image on top of an underlayment or other structural surface; whereas this piece is solidly handcrafted using 1,000 - 1,500 individual pieces.

It's about 40" square and though you probably can't tell from the photo, the thickness of the individual pieces range from about 1/2" to 1". The woods used to make the angular stripes are cherry and walnut. The colored stars are made of canary wood, blood wood and redheart.

Eventually, the piece will be sanded so that the surface smoothly follows the contour of the individual pieces. When completed, both pieces will be wall-mounted. Before sanding and finishing this piece, I'm going to make a plaster cast that will become a second piece. I still have to figure out how to do that. If I try to pour plaster directly on the wood, the water in the plaster will soak into the wood fibers and ruin the whole piece. Plaster will also stick like glue to a piece with as much texture as this. The plaster casting process will likely involve a combination of rubber and plaster molding. If you have any suggestions, I'd certainly consider them...

These other pieces are a couple examples of smaller fabrications that I've made mostly from the scraps from the above piece and some of earlier star tables. These pieces are also meant to be wall-mounted. The evolution of these pieces will be to make more sculptural, 3-dimensional objects in which these pieces are sort of like walls. But that'll probably be a while.

Vinyl Lives! Jason's LP cabinet finished

I started a fancy two-tiered combination record cabinet and turntable holder for my client, Jason, a few weeks ago. I was thrilled to deliver it completed, along with a little bonus LP, earlier this week. Since I'm an avid record collector, I had a blast making this cabinet and hope I get a chance to make some others similar to this one. Maybe I'll even have time one day to make one for myself.

From my original design, I couldn't resist making a couple changes and embellishments. First, I traded out the proposed paper strap door pulls and handles for a set I hand-turned from canarywood. They're likely to last a little longer, especially since they'll be in arms reach of an adventurous 2-year-old. I also inlayed a single star pattern in the top of the lid that's similar to the tables and other pieces I've been making recently.

The project also created several challenges for me; namely the compound angles I had to cut and join to create the top. I also learned that next time I make something like this, I should try to make the top a little lighter (it's kind of a beast).

Each tier of the cabinet holds around 75 - 100 12-inch LPs, which should be plenty of space for Jason to expand his collection.

Staying Grounded

Fridays have become one of my favorite days lately. No, not because it's the end of the traditional work week (there is no end to my work week); but because I get to spend Friday afternoons assisting another artist, sculptor Littleton Alston.

I was previously Littleton's assistant from 2003 - 2008, helping him with a number of tasks that ran the gammit from mold-making, waxwork, helping pour bronze(!), welding armatures and sweeping the floor. For instance, I spent Saturday morning finishing a some beautiful paduak bases I made for some of his stainless steel sculptures.

Working with Littleton in the past and now again taught me all kinds of technical skills and has equally influenced my work ethic and aesthetic. I wouldn't have had the discipline or desire to start Measure Cut Cut Studio without Littleton's influence, advice and help. In essence, Littleton has been one of my most important mentors, inside and out of the studio.

Fridays give me a chance to escape my own studio for a while to concentrate on helping someone else accomplish their aesthetic vision while making a few bucks along the way. It's also a great way to reflect on my own process and vision and gain insight and criticism from someone I greatly respect. Working a few hours a week for Littleton is also a constant reminder of where I started my own artistic journey several years ago, and where I'd like to be several years from now. In essence, working on someone else's art helps keep me grounded, focused and, as Anthony Bourdain says, "hungry for more."

Coming up: Jason's LP cabinet is finished; more of those star things are on their way; early preparation for the Bemis Center auction; and an extra cool conversation with Rick Waters of the Sawdust Chronicles!

Jason's Record Cabinet: In Process

As some of you may be aware, I'm kind of a vinyl junkie. I've built up a sizeable collection of LPs and 45s over the past 10 years. However, I've never taken the opportunity to build myself a cabinet worthy of its would-be contents. My friend and client Jason, however, is going to have a nice cabinet for his collection very soon.

The below image is a simple drawing that I'm using as a basis for building Jason's cabinet. I'm in the process right now, and am really enjoying building it knowing it'll be in someone's home who I think is really cool, and will house something that I have such a strong appreciation for.

The cabinet is constructed of walnut and comes as a two-piece set. The top section includes a beveled, hinged lid that, when opened, will reveal Jason's turntable. There will also be a display rack attached to one side that will serve a dual function of holding and highlighting the jacket of the record in use. I like to think of that feature as the home stereo version of a cranky record store clerk's "Now Playing" rack. Underneath that will be a shelf with doors that will hold about a crate's worth of LPs. The lower section is a similarly sized shelf unit. I'm flirting with using paper as a structural element again with this piece, proposing to use it as the handles for the doors and top.

A feature that doesn't come through the drawing is the beautifully figured walnut in the photo to the right. The spirally, funnel grain pattern will be incorporated into the doors.

I can already tell this is shaping up to be the kind of project that's hard to give up.

Two new side tables (for sale)

In between working on commissions for customers, I still find a little time to just make stuff. These two side tables are good examples of the fruits of that labor. The pinwheel patterns on the top of each were made by meticulously cutting and fabricating several hundred diamond pieces in precise patterns. After sanding the tops, I finished them both with several coats of satin polyurethane.

The table on the left is made of walnut, canarywood and paduak and is 18.5" tall x 12.5" in diameter. The one on the right is made of walnut and paduak and is 20" tall x 12.5" in diameter. Both tables feature elegantly curved legs made from steam bent solid walnut. Even cooler is the fact that the material is 100% recycled from scraps and cut-offs of other completed projects. So, as far as wood furniture and art goes, these pieces are relatively environmentally friendly.

These are both one-of-a-kind pieces that won't be reproduced. They're also for sale! If you're interested in purchasing either of these side tables, please feel free to inquire for price quotes. They're perfect for holding a cup of coffee while you're reading the morning paper (or blog)...

Patrick's Bed

Late last week, after a wee bit of trial and tribulation, I finished and delivered my first bed, to my client, Patrick. Patrick's full/double bed is made of 3/4" birch veneered plywood with a dark walnut stain. It holds a standard size mattress, which is about 75" long x 54" wide. The design is decidedly different than most of what I've done in the past, since I don't tend to use plywood or stains much. However, it was an opportunity to try my hand at what seemed like some pretty intense - and at times challenging - series of mortise and tenon construction.

The headboard and footboard are individual solid pieces that serve as the basic structure of the piece, and are supported by posts fabricated using several layers of plywood. The side rails are long tenons that sleeve into double mortises cut front-to-back and side-to-side into each post. The posts also accommodate lateral tenons that mortises through the central length of support. The lateral supports that span the width of the bed sleeve onto the central and side rails. Several pins too keep everything in place round out the design. After finishing the basic structure, I found that there was still a little too much movement from front to back, so I attached some metal brackets to stabilize each post.

Now, it's back to business. My new projects include a new bent plywood and paper seat chair, a dining table or two, and a record/turntable cabinet that's supposed to be for my friend Jason, but that I might have to keep for myself. I'll also be posting photos of a couple side tables I put together in my spare time over the past couple of months. Those will be for sale, if you're interested. Stay tuned.

A doggone problem solved!

It's become part of our daily routine at the Cales-Proskocil household to chase after our 2-year-old Lhasa apso, Hazel. One of Hazel's favorite things to do is take things she's not supposed to have and then brazenly trot into another room to chew and chew and chew. Hazel's favorite items include tissues, socks, undies, shoes and, above all else, Niz's slippers. The picture on the left shows her with a recent victim of her incessant chewing. The sort of boudoir shot on the lower right is just there to show you how cute she is.

Niz is more Westernized than I am, but one of her many Eastern attributes is her use of slippers in the house. She keeps them right next to the bed where they're easy 'pickens for Hazel to brazenly snatch up and run into the living room to devour.

As I mentioned, this happens pretty much every day, so in an attempt to combat this doggone problem, I designed a hanging paper holder for the slippers. I've used the same heavy watercolor paper employed in a couple recent woven chair seats. I attached the simple, curled slipper holders using some snap fasteners. The brass grommets applied to each corner can be used to nail or pin the entire piece to the wall.

This is version 1.0 of the slipper holder; the curled holder pieces aren't exactly the same size, and the snap fasteners and grommets were attached quickly with little regard to symmetry or evenness. It may not be perfect, but while it's in use, Hazel will have to settle for my dirty socks.

Ooh, baby baby! A new baby rattle

The baby bug seems to be going around quite a bit these days. I know a few ladies who are expecting pretty soon. One of them is Niz's former roommate and good friend Debbie. Debbie and her partner Matt are living in Chicago and expecting a bouncy boy in mid-March. Their baby shower was this past Sunday, so we decided to make the trip and kill two birds by visiting Niz's favorite furniture store (and my least favorite), IKEA. (I could easily fill an entire post with a rant about my lack of enthusiasm for IKEA's cheaply made and poorly fabricated furnishings, but hey, this is a fun post about the miracle of life and such, so I'll save it for another time).

Anyway, as I've done for several friends and a few clients over the past few years, I made Debbie and Matt this fancy turned rattle. The body is from a scrap of canary wood I found in my shop and the orange plugs are from a piece of paduak I still have from the first chair I made. This color combination is one of my favorites, as evidenced by the other picture, which is of the first rattle I made.

The form of Debbie's and Matt's rattle is inspired by the shape of an acorn (Debbie and Niz share a love of squirrels), though I've also been told it resembles, ahem, something else.

I'll likely be making time in my schedule to make several more of these miniature maracas in the months to come.

Thailand Adventure, Part 2 - Craft & Design

Before I left for Thailand, several people suggested the trip would have an impact on my work. I'm not sure how much the mostly rustic palm and rubber wood chairs and benches I saw will directly influence my work. More likely, I've been influenced by the Thai people's relationship to working and living in the lush, yet challenging landscape and the influence of the uniquely Thai idea of "mai ben rai", or "nevermind", "don't worry about it", "it's okay". My relatives who harvest rubber, durian or coconuts, or clean and cure fish work long and odd hours. And while they sometimes start and end in the wee hours of the morning, day after day, giving all they have, while never showing the slightest bit of worry or negativity. It still feels wonderful to remember how simple, yet fulfilling everyone's lifestyle seemed to be.


I suppose in some ways the woodworking and furniture design reflected this idea too. Most of the chairs and benches I saw were simply constructed, opting for nails over any kind of complex joinery. The decorations were often geometric patterns, subtle curves and naturalistic carvings of animals in palm or rubber wood. You might notice from some of the pictures I've shared that palm and rubber trees are plentiful. I didn't see as much teak as I thought I would.

Surprisingly, I saw very similar designs in most of the wood furniture as are demonstrated in the photo on the right. This was true for other wooden objects, as well.

Like the rubber trees that I was so infatuated with, the bird cages that peppered the houses and businesses throughout the Surat Thani province have become symbols of my trip. The designs of the cages I saw were rough in the sense that they weren't finely sanded or finished. But they were delicate in their use of thin rods for the bars and intricately sawn decorations and turned handles. Of all the souvenirs I brought back, this was my favorite, and I hope it finds a good place in its planned home. I got a lot of weird looks while carrying it through all the airports, and my wife's family seemed a little perplexed that I had bought a bird cage, but didn't have a bird to put in it. Niz's uncle, Na Sok, even chuckled at me when he picked us up at the airport on our return leg. I found out when we got back to the U.S. that he keeps and shows doves. I wish I would have known while we were there; I probably could have talked him into showing them to me, and I would have had another venture on my hands...

Besides bird cages, many families had outdoor wooden shrines of varying sizes painted in bright, opaque colors, though the general shape and design of each was the same. Many family homes and public spaces also had concrete tables and benches painted with bright colors, similar to the designs shown in the photo on the right.

Looking through the hundreds of photos we took during our 3 weeks in Thailand, I realize there's still quite a bit I want to share. I'll post one  more wrap-up of the trip, featuring what I saw at the Big Buddha shrine, in Phuket.

Exploring Thailand Part 1 - Rubber Farming in Na San

My 3 week honeymoon in Thailand was a real adventure - perhaps the most authentic "adventure" I've ever undertaken. My wife and I started in Bangkok on January 12. Her aunt, uncle and cousins - none of whom spoke much English - escorted us around the city for several days. We visited a wide variety of temples, markets and sites that catered both to Western tourists and native Thai people. It was a fun leg of the trip, rich in discovery of kind, humble people and vibrant colors, flavors and - for better or worse - smells - in the big city. Many of the places we visited were also filled with "farangs" (foreigners).

By contrast, Na San is a small farming community of about 2,000 people located in the Southern Thai province of Surat Thani. The people of Na San, including several members of my wife's immediate and extended family, have been harvesting rubber and fruit trees in the region for several generations. Na San is my wife's birthplace, and it served a similar purpose for me as I came to learn, understand and love the Thai people and their work.

Life in Na San seems to be simpler than life in the big city. The pace is more relaxed. While there are busy fresh markets, there are no knick-knack shops selling mass-produced elephant carvings or knock-off Ed Hardy t-shirts. Most of the narrow, one-story dwellings are tiled from one end to the other. A basic restroom includes a sink, a shower head attached to the wall and a modern toilet with a spray nozzle attached. Thai kitchens are similar to their Western counterparts, though most don't include microwaves, full ranges or dishwashers.

The economy of Na San - and much of the rest of the Surat Thani province - is based around agriculture. Rubber farms laid out in long, regular rows sandwich the highways throughout the area. Aside from meeting several members of my wife's family, watching and experiencing the rubber orchards first hand was the highlight of the trip for me. I commented over and over again about how I could have just sat and stared at the orchards all day. The thin trees shoot straight up toward the sky until a few branches bend together to form arches like natural cathedrals.

Many members of my wife's family (above left to right: a few of Niz's family members: sisters Pee Jeeip and Pee Lek and cousin Nong Boy) own rubber and fruit orchards, and they let me try my hand at harvesting the rubber. In fact, I was so excited to work the rubber orchard that I mistakenly got up at 5:30am one day awake and ready to work all morning. Later that day we all realized our language barrier had caused a misunderstanding, but I was ready to go.

Prior to visiting the orchard, I had believed that rubber trees were tapped with some sort of spigot, and that the rubber sap drained out of the tree with little effort. When I did finally get a chance to try for myself, I learned this was very wrong. The work is physical and takes a particular technique. It's usually done in the wee hours of the morning due to the heat too, so men and women both work odd hours several days each week.

The thin bark of the tree is scraped lightly at a diagonal angle down and across the tree. This frees the opaque white sap to slowly seep to the surface and run down into a ceramic bowl. Each bowl looks like it holds about a pint of rubber. The full bowls are then collected into a larger bucket and taken to a market to sell. While we were there, raw rubber was selling for about 90 baht (about $3) per kilo, which I was told was a pretty good price.

I was also told I did a pretty decent job scraping rubber bark, after I got the hang of the technique. My obsession with the trees led me to buy a simple tool used to scrape the wet rubber from the little bowls. I also attempted to buy one of the sharp bark scrapers, but wouldn't have been able to bring it back through security, so had to let that one go. When we go back again, I'm going to see if I can get on the payroll.

Next up: a look at some Thai craftsmanship. Hey, this is a furniture blog, after all!