Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Monday, December 10, 2012

Five: Planning.

Part 1.

"Live life, like each day is your last day"

I've heard this quite a bit. It sounds nice - the idea that we are but mortals and death is unavoidable and sometimes unexpected, so embrace every day you have, as if it was your last day to live. This motto may lead to a warm, fuzzy feeling (i.e. Joy) due to the presumed lack of responsibility and ensuing freedom to indulge various vices, but in reality its entirely impractical. If you live every day as if its your last, you never get anything done. It would be completely unproductive. And after a while, I think, it would be unfulfilling. Humoring every indulgence is enjoyable for a short time, but as most millionaires and lottery winners can attest to, this style of life leaves you feeling hollow and empty. There is a haunting lack of purpose and meaning in a life lived solely for personal pleasure.

Of course, living every day as your last doesn't necessarily mean "buying want you want" or "doing what you want". I think you can live with purpose and spirit in this mindset. Those with even rudimentary wisdom understand that it is much more fulfilling to give, than it is to receive; and greater satisfaction is achieved by living with less and acquiring less, while experiencing more; and spending quality time on relationships is far more valuable than what any amount of money can buy. However, if I knew that this was my last day to live, I probably wouldn't go to work. Or bother with paying my bills for the month. Or buying food for next week. Clearly there must be a balance between forfeiting all responsibilities while still enjoying life in its impermanence.

The question is: How far ahead do you plan? Two days? Two weeks? Two years? And what of the value of long-term projects? Projects that I've invested lots of effort into are often the most rewarding. The reward of completion is much more sweet after years of investment, compared the short-lived high from a two-day project. These are valuable experiences and help to shape a person. If I only plan ahead for two weeks, there is limit to what I can accomplish.  Living only for the day, and only experiencing short-term rewards seems akin to immaturity. Immediate pleasure response is the motis operandi of children. Delayed gratification is a learned skill, and a necessity for adults in our culture. So we find ourselves at the crux, in a space between planning and working for the future (sometimes years or decades), and a future that is never certain and may disappear in an instant.

Four: Time.


Saturday, November 10, 2012

Three: Revealing.

The deconstruction process continues.

 During this process, I've discovered some interesting irregularities. The corner pieces where the perimeter braces meet the legs of the table have two different types of joints.

The corner in the picture to the left has a hybrid joint. The brace coming from the top of the picture meets the leg with a typical mortise and tendon joint. The brace from the left of the picture, however, is not jointed, but instead attached with a bolt.


 The corner in this picture shows both braces with the mortise and tendon joint. I'm not quite sure why some are jointed, and others are bolted. Weird. The mortise and tendon joint is one of the strongest and oldest joints in woodworking. Now there are jigs that will cut super precise mortises and tendons for you, but I wonder if Calvin carved these by hand. If so, I'm super impressed. And I also understand if he got tired of carving all these joins by the end and just decided to spend the extra money on hardware and bolt a few together.


Diagonal brace removed.

Recalcitrant bolts are no match for my hacksaw.
These nails were the most difficult to remove. I utilized ninja tactics to get them out, but still managed to put a hole in my thumb. 
The upper half of this board has been stripped twice.
I started the stain removal process. I'm working with a stripping jell, instead of the less viscous form, which helps to keep things a little cleaner. After the first strip, much of the stain still remained. I could see the wood gain again, but many of the softer sections of wood retained much of the stain and remained much darker than I would like. I started on a second round of stripping and was able to remove a little more. Unfortunately, the top planks are the easiest pieces to strip, so these pieces of wood will probably end up being the lightest sections.

Hey! There is wood underneath all that stain.

Stripped twice on the left, versus once on the right.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Two: Comparisons.

The process of refinishing this table is already ripe with metaphor for life and relationships. Here's a few of the more obvious ones.

Relationships, friendships, marriages, and tables...

- If put together properly with time and care, are difficult to take apart.
- Require a variety of tools to work on. Or to maintain.
- Sometimes require you to walk away and think for a bit.
- Have stubborn bits. And surprisingly easy bits too.
- Are rarely what they appear to be on the surface.


Monday, October 22, 2012

One: Beginning.

I'm rebuilding a table, and at the same time, myself. Although, refurbishing would be a better word, because the table doesn't need that much actual building (and hopefully neither do I). What the table does need is a wash, a scrape, to lose some old pieces, and gain some new ones. And then a finish, that protects and preserves.

This is the beginning. Throughout the process I plan to capture the steps, and discoveries, and revelations. This blog is a place for me to write all these things down, before my mind pushes them  back into the further reaches of my sometimes-spastic memory.

Her she sits as I received her, nearly 100 years old.

Small flaws.

Woodwork.

I wonder how many meals were consumed at this table top...

Solid construction.

Interesting spaces. I wonder why?

Not quite sure what's going on here, but I think I'll leave it.

Marks from the hand saw that cut this board, I believe.

Mallet is my new favorite tool.

Rough schematic.

Minor casualty. Easily fixed.

This one gave me fits.

And the top is off.

Shop rag under the hammer claw. New favorite wood preserving technique.

A glimpse of the original wood, and of what's to come.