I stand by my bench with my sander in hand. As I move it slowly over the piece of saw horse I see the marks of my progress. I gently pass over the little imperfections that taught me how not to us a chisel. I think about the progress. I think about the grain and how it measures time. The building of the Krenov saw horses is supposed to take an afternoon, but if you are really skilled you can make it take a month. I am a person with this level of skill. Time is a funny thing and a...
If a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it’s as though I’ve neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. -Richard Avedon I didn’t know about the work of Richard Avedon before his exhibit at the Corcoran at the end of 2008. As a volunteer docent at the gallery I got to hear a lecture from the curator of his traveling exhibit, and learn about his amazing works. I became a fan. This wasn’t the beginni...
for all those that missed it, or those that didn’t know about the article. here’s a link to Popular woodworking published article where George R. Walker shows a very simple and effective technique to design graduated drawers arrangement: http://www.popularwoodworking.com/article/graduated_drawers_woodworking_design/ Peace
Passing the Torch With the passing of iconic woodworkers and one retiring a TV program in 2009, there was a lot of talk about who would take up the cause and so generously share their time and knowledge? Who would lead, teach, and inspire the woodworkers of tomorrow? The answer is pretty simple as I see it, it is You and Me. Inspiring the next generation of woodworkers is as simple as allowing the kids, grandkids, or someone you are mentoring share time in the shop. More Than ...
“The English Plane” -by Brian Meeks In a tiny shop north of London townAt a maple bench stood young man proud.Off cobble stone road sat a flower girlA comb in her hair from mother of pearl He’d returned from the war a scar on his faceHe’d flown a camel; they’d called him an Ace.At the museum she’d once spent a dayThe artist she saw was named Claude Monet On way to his shop, each day he passed byHe oft thought of how, he might catch her eyeShe noticed his walk and his hat pulle...
In 1972 October 20, Pete Rose hit a leadoff home run, and then hit a single in the ninth inning. This was game 5 of the World Series, and the Cincinnati Reds had just staved off elimination, thanks to my child hood hero’s efforts. The Reds would win game 6 to send it to a decisive game 7 in Riverfront stadium. I was 5 years old. On October 22, in front of 56,040 fans, and at least one little boy at home watching on TV, the Oakland A’s captured their first World Series since 1930, beat...
Since I began blogging, I have taken to carrying around a small notebook, pencil, sharpener and eraser. I am more of a pen person, but using a pencil feels right to me. I was at the bar in the Dublin Underground, drinking an RC, no straw, my usual drink. This is my favorite place in Iowa City. It is a friendly place. I was really focused on writing down some thoughts about possible future blog posts. I didn’t notice the woman taking off her coat and sitting down one seat over on m...
Last evening, as if some mysterious and mischievous deity were looking in on me and saw how giddy I was over my new Festool PSB 300EQ, the power went out. Not just a little outage, one where the deity could chuckle for a few minutes as I sit in the dark with my unusable power tool, but a major ‘the house gets really cold’ outage. I went to bed. It was warm. I thought about using my new saw. At 7:37 am the electricity flowed into the house, bringing with it heat, computing power, a...
It seemed like a long time ago. The year was 637 AD, and I was studying under the master Ninja and Carpenter, Sado Asuka. His philosophy was, ‘To master the blade of the Ninja, one must master the tools of the Carpenter’. He said this often. We built a Shinto shrine in his back yard and a rumpus room, for his kids. It was strange that he spoke English, but I digress. One day I was using the hand tools, as I was told, practicing my Miyajim-tsugi, or as the master said, in his best Eas...
Staring out across the frozen tundra that is Martelle in January, I began to apply layers of clothing to my frame, as protection against the bitterness. This, like many of my missives, is a complete exaggeration, it is actually around 25 degrees and not bitter at all. (Now, back to the story) Fearing certain death, or worse, disappointment, I took a pull of diet dew and was about to leave, when suddenly, much to my surprise, the familiar bong of an arriving email caught my attention. ...
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