thoughts from the wrong side of the brain

Building a Custom Desk - On the Nature of a Thing

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 29 Dec 2013 23:33:00 +0000

The creation of a thing neither begins nor ends. This desk began when I first wondered how a leg can NOT be attached, and will end some years hence when I last push myself away from its worn and used surface still too aware of the mistakes I made and where my design fell down. It also began when a neolithic man took a sharp stone and formed a hole in a iridescent shell, tied it round with a string which he had crafted of sinew and gave it to his lover. Design, even with something original like this desk, rests upon an long aesthetic of those who came before, some of which were giants. It rests upon philosophy and social constructs. It is a reaction to the world at large and our experience within it. It is the sum of all those things and forms the hand and head to its end.

This carved detail is founded upon the Japanese Philosophy of Wabi-Sabi...no, it's not hot and you can't eat it. This broad idea manifests itself in the handcrafted by finding beauty in imperfection. Characteristics of the wabi-sabi aesthetic include asymmetry, asperity (roughness or irregularity). This carved section is in purposeful contrast to the ordered squares...round and square. It is also the rough to the smooth of the top.

Again, you will find the round and the square in the ends. The corners begin at the same location, but the top flows around while the bottom is square.

Here is the unexpected...the leg passing through the desk. Legs simply hold up things. We don't notice them unless they're nice and attached to high heals. The expected usually doesn't even fire in our vision center while the unexpected captures our eye and requires our thought. I imagine a child would like this space between the bottom and the top. Cars and super-heroes would fit nicely...kids always find such in-between spaces.

I spent the last several days building a shelve/table/ bookcase...I don't know what to call it...which matches the desk. The wood I used is very beautiful. It was put together in much the same way, but of itself is quite simple. But, it is a good companion to the desk.

Next, the fumming. I need to build a tent and buy some noxious stuff. Then, the simple design will turn in to a crazy beautiful thing.

Building a Custom Desk - Details (Post 8)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Mon, 23 Dec 2013 21:09:00 +0000

I had to:

- Clean up the tenons which are 1/8" proud of the top and have a 45 degree angle around all four sides. They're very evident and the eye will see very small discrepancies, so they have to be right on angle and depth.

- Cut the top of the legs off. I used a spacer with a hole cut into it and a Japanese saw. This left all the legs at the exact same height.

- Hand work the top of the legs. I used a small gouge and simply worked around the edge.

- And, clean up all the surfaces and soften the hard edges. Here's the final product, without drawers, but otherwise complete. I couldn't get a very good picture of it.

Building a Custom Desk - Reaming and Legs (Post 7)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Mon, 23 Dec 2013 00:12:00 +0000

This is what things look like after the glue up. I need to ream the holes to put a taper into them, cut an inch off both ends of the bottom and turn the legs. Also, I have to clean up the edges planning a small chamfer into the edges so they don't get beat up. But, I'll make the chamfer very small.

First, the reamer. It's petty simple. The reamer is inserted into the holes and turned. It takes about 20 minutes a corner - maybe a little longer. The only thing to pay attention to is that you aim for the small hole as you ream the larger one.

You can see that the reamer is angled about 5 degrees. I have to ream it to the line drawn on the reamer. You have to withdraw and clean the reamer quite a bit as the shavings are drawn to the space between the wood and the blade. Once finished, I tried the one leg I had half turned and it fit nicely.

You can also see in this picture that my pins through the bottom aren't proud, but flush. It doesn't matter much, but there it is. I have to live with my mistake. If I wanted to sell the desk I don't think I would due to the error.

I shifted to the legs turning each one and trying it in the holes. There was some adjustments, but not too bad. Getting a 5 degree taper and having a tight fit at two fixed locations is a bit of a trick. I spent about 9 hours doing all of this and I got through three legs. I've got one leg left to turn.

I'm very happy with the design. It may be better than I envisioned. It looks very cool and the legs will look great embonized. It's very nice to see something go from paper to reality.

Building a Custom Desk - !$!!$%&!!! (Post 6)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 22 Dec 2013 00:37:00 +0000

Disaster Strikes...now that I had all the information for the legs I drilled the holes for the legs. I will have to taper them once the top and bottom are glued up. The holes are 1 3/8" on the bottom and 1" on the top. Now I can glue up the bottom to the sides and front.

The glue up went well. I planned two boards with a 3/16" crown so I could put pressure in the middle where a clamp couldn't reach. I had cauls on the bottom in which I had milled a trough so the pins could stick though so I didn't immediately see my mistake. The pins didn't stick through. They were flush with the bottom. Somehow, I had cut my tenons too short; 1/8" too short! I was too far with the glue so I left it. It didn't matter that the pins were flush on the bottom, but for the top it was a debacle.

I panicked, cursed, and had that sick feeling until I realized I could fix the top. I'd have to go back and milled 1/8 out of every dado on the top and then make new dovetail pieces. After whacking myself in the head for a while I just started in on it. It wasn't too bad. After a couple of hours I was back to where I was. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb stupid rock.

I needed the radius on the top. For that I need another jig. But, I have it! I drew the radius with the trammel and then cut about 1/8" from the line. I then got out the router and cut the line with a giant circle cutter. It looks like this. I can cut a 16' circle with it so it is good for this task. Using an upcutting bit I get a nice, clean edge.

So, here's what the top looks like. Now, I'm actually really to glue everything up. I won't detail the glue. It will be pretty boring - I hope! Next, I'll have picture of the desk as it will appear, but without the legs.

Building a Custom Desk - legs (post 5)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Fri, 20 Dec 2013 03:25:00 +0000

So, this is where things are now. All of these pieces are ready to be glued in place. But, before I begin any gluing I have to have the holes for the legs drilled. So, I'm going to put this all away so I have some room to mill up and turn the legs.

I had thought about walnut legs, but the walnut I had just wasn't quite good enough. Also, I do want them black (dyed) and the maple I have will work fine. I have to mill up four blanks that are fairly straight-grained and at least 2" square. Then I will turn them into round blanks.

First, I have to work up the details in the legs. About the only thing is know at this point is the length and largest diameter. The legs will splay 5 degrees in both directions, and there is a 2.5 degree taper to the leg as it passes through the top and bottom of the desk. There is a lot going on and I have to get everything looking great because it all shows. This is what I need to achieve.

Let me explain the taper. The construction is from Windsor chairs. For a bench I recently made I fabricated a reamer. It produces a 5 degree taper. It took quite a while to make, but now I can just pull it off the shelve. I will drill straight holes through the top and bottom and then use the reamer to make the holes tapered. The legs have a mirrored taper and will fit very tightly. I won't even glue them and they will have to be pounded out once fit.

What I need to know is the location and size of each hole as it passes through the desk. I need another jig.

This jig is a mock-up of the desk; 3/4" thick with the exact spacing. By laying out a 5 degree line on the jig I found that the holes will shift 5/8". By measuring along the length of the reamer at the location spacing I found the size of the hole at both locations. I used a smaller bit and drilled the holes and then ran the reamer though to achieve the taper.

Now I can lay out the leg. It looks like this after I enter all of the things I know and got the shape I want.

There are two challenges with these legs - getting them the same and getting the taper to fit tightly in both holes. To have the best chance of getting them the same I began with a template with all the about on it so I could mark each blank.

That looks like this an ensures that I don't make a mistake. Next, I'll bring down the leg to each of those measurements and then join them with long flowing arches.

Once I turned leg down I got a good fit in the taper. Thinking about it, I decided to now drill the desktop and bottom. I will need to fit each leg to each set of holes. I will get a better fit and now I know how everything will come together. I just need to decide exactly where the holes will be located.

Before calling it a day, I sealed the inside of the bottom. I won't be able to get to it once the desk is glued up and I don't want to leave it raw. The outside won't look like this. I'll put another coat on tomorrow.

Building a Custom Desk - Fitting (post 4)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Wed, 18 Dec 2013 23:19:00 +0000

It took quite a while to square all of the mortices, but before I went from working on the bottom to the top I decided to do things a little differently. Instead of drilling out the holes I used a router and guide with a up-cutting spiral bit. This worked better and I didn't have to worry about tear out. I still had to switch the jig from top to bottom, but that wasn't much of problem anyway. I would recommend this method over drilling. The router set up looks like this. You simply plunge in and run the router around the jig riding on the round surface on the bottom center of the router.

I still have a good bit of fitting to do. The tenons are very tight. This is a difficult joint and this many surfaces are difficult to get exactly right without being loose. There are, after all, 36 surfaces on each side of one board. That's 142 with both sides of both boards. Just the friction is hard to overcome. The good thing is that only the top really matters. That is what shows and it will be very evident. So, I'm generally working from the underside and avoiding the top. Overall, the jig worked terrifically - it is just very tight.

The next things to do are mill the dado for the front piece and put in the dovetails for the drawer dividers. Milling the dado was a quick job. I also noticed I had about 1/16" difference on the width of the top and bottom so I clamped the two together and mated the surfaces with a plane.This is the dado, or groove, for the front piece. The board will fit into this groove and it will hide the mated surfaces and hold the board in place.

The dovetails are a bit harder to set up. I have to make another jig. You make a lot of jigs in woodworking. I need to make a dovetailed groove for the drawer dividers to sit in. Here's the drawing.

This kind of dovetail is called a sliding dovetail. I will first make the slot so I can fit the dovetail to the slot. For the jig I simply need a stop around 3" deep and two sides which will limit the width. My bit is 1/2 wide so if the divider is 3/4" wide I need a jig about 3/8" wider than my router. This is the result.

I made the depth of the cut at 1/2" so I need the length of the divider 1" longer than the inside measurement of my desk, or 6 1/4". A piece is cut so length, but only rough width and then run though the router table using the same bit.

That looks like this. You simply dial in the height and then run the piece through until it fits. In this case, I went a tad to far and had to mill up another. Sliding dovetails are very finicky and go from too tight to too loose at astoundingly small increments. Long sliding dovetails which usually have a taper so you don't have too much friction are all kinds of trouble.

Here's what these look like when installed. They are pretty simple. I had to trim the dovetail off the inside and cut them to width.

Next, I milled up the front piece which fit in the groove I made earlier. It also fits into a dado on each of the toothed pieces. Being very careful with the layout I marked up both pieces directly off the top and bottom.

Next, some hand work. Sometimes, it's safer and easier to just do some things by hand. It's always more satisfying. I wanted to show how to do a handcut dado. Hand skills are an important part of building anything worthwhile.

First scribe the line with a marking knife and then followup in the cut with a long chisel.

Next, come inside the line and make a small valley which will act as a guide for the saw.

Next, saw the line to the depth of the dado.

Now, hog out between the lines. This isn't pretty - just get rid of the wood you don't want.

Next, I use a router plane. These are handy (but expensive) planes that excel at this job.

After about 10 minutes total work the front can be fit in - dead straight and even.

I'm nearly done with all the milling and cutting on the top. After a bit more work I can cut the holes for the legs. I'm still thinking about that. I will turn the legs first.

Building a Custom Desk - Mortise & Tenons (post 3)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 15 Dec 2013 18:18:00 +0000

While the glue was drying I set about making the jig to create the through mortises. Mortises always have to be exactly the right size, but when there are so many you'd never get the sides tenons in the mortices without extremely accurate cuts. The setup has to be absolutely exact. Here's how it was done.

First, I ripped a piece of 3/4" plywood exactly the width of the tenons. I spent some time getting this just right. Then, I fitted a piece between each tenon like this.

Again, I spent a lot of time getting these tight and well fit. The top and bottom tenons are an exact copy of each other, but there could be very small differences due to the fact that I flipped the board on the tablesaw. So, I decided to make a jig for both the bottom and top mortices. I then left the pieces between the tenons and glued plywood to both sides of the small plywood insets. I was left with the jig below. It is an exact copy of the mortices I need to cut in the top and bottom and this spacing will be exact.

The next day, after the top and bottom panels' glue was set I set about laying out the exact lengths of the top and bottom. I ended up a little longer than my drawing, but very close to what I planned. I liked the radius end just as I had planned it. Above is a trammel used to scribe large radiuses.

I did not cut the radius. Instead, I cut the top square after adding an inch to each end. This way I have a good square end to work with and I don't have to worry about tearing up the end.

Upon making the rough "final" cut and establishing a final size of the desk I was ready for the mortices, which were located 4" from each end.

The jig has to be placed exactly and fixed tightly to the top. The first step is to drill holes through each square. This allows you to get a router bit into the jig and also removes material so the routing isn't a problem. The less material the router has to remove, the better. You just get a smoother cut with less possibility for problems.

Once the holes were drilled and the material removed I moved the jig to the underside of the board. You could use a router with either a top or bottom bearing - I have a bottom bearing and would rout from the top.

For those who are reading this and aren't woodworkers, here is a picture of the router bit that does the work. The idea is that the bearing edge is on the same plane as the cutter. Thus, the router cuts a shape exactly the size and shape of the whatever it bears against. In this case, the jig I built.

This is what the bottom looks like once the holes are finished with the router and pattern bit. As you can see, the holes have radiused corners which I will have to square off by hand.

Also, I need a dado the full length of the board and 1/8" deep and the full width of the board. This is in final product. If this all looks easy, it took about twelve hours total. I guess I have about twenty-five hours into it so far.

I haven't had any disasters yet and things have gone smoothly.

the dado

the side piece fit into the bottom.

The other side. The tenons will be cut down, but are left long so the fined edge doesn't get beat up.

Building a Custom Desk - Milling (post 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sat, 14 Dec 2013 03:19:00 +0000

I sorted through the lumber, picked and labeled the wood I wanted to use. I had six, 17" wide boards that were cut in sequence. Thus, I could book-match the pieces and create a very nice top. I shuffled the boards around until I had the grain I wanted.

Once the pieces were joined and planned, this is what the stack looked like. These stacks will be the desk and a small bookshelve.

the wide boards for the top and bottom

the remainder

As you'll see in the next picture the boards for the top and bottom are very large and nicely figured. I can have a very wide desk with one wood joint and that joint will look natural because of the book-matching.

I want to get a very invisible joint so once I joined the edge on the joiner I flipped the boards on edge and hand planned the edge. If the boards are oriented correctly any out of square edge is reflected in the other board and are thus cancelled out.This gives you an excellent glue joint.

Because I couldn't run the glued up board through the planner I used a spline to make sure the faces lined up. I usually don't do a joint this way as it just isn't needed, but these wide boards would need some help. I simply used a router and bit with a bearing. Milling up the spine took a while as it had to be exactly right - tight, but not too tight.Also, you have to not go all the way to the end as you don't want the spline to show.

The glue up was easy after all the prep work.

Next, I wanted to tackle the through tenons. I had thought about exactly how I wanted to do them for a while, but I had to work through the details. As for the size of the tenon, I used the golden ratio. The width is 3/4" so the length would be right at 1- 1/4". I spaced them about 2" apart per my eye. I spent a lot of time laying out all the lines and used a sharp marking knife. Once done with the layout, I marked out the cut sections so I couldn't screw anything up.

There are a number of ways to make these cuts, but I chose to use the table saw. I screwed the two pieces together so I could mill both at the same time. This also gives you a nice bearing surface to keep everything flat to the table. Mostly, it assures you that both pieces are exactly the same. Mark all the faces so you can orient everything the same in later phases.

I put a box cutting blade, rechecked everything for square and started cutting. I used the table saw fence to index each cut so I could unclamp and flip the board. As for height, I didn't worry about the tenon height, but the space between the tenons. This distance will establish the space inside the desk. I will have a 1/8" dado, so I had to add 1/4" to the overall space of 5 1/4". The tenons are long and I'll cut them once assembled so I can see exactly how I want them.

I was very happy with the result. The overall spacing between tenons could be as much as 1/64" off, at most, but I will deal with that in the next phase.

Next, I'll cut the top and bottom to size, make a jig to cut all the mortices, and cut the mortices.

Building a Custom Desk - Design (post 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Thu, 12 Dec 2013 12:29:00 +0000

Shortly, I'll be working from home and thus need a desk, so it is a great opportunity to build something that I'll enjoy sitting at day-after-day. Designing a "major" piece of furniture from scratch is always a challenge and something I enjoy. The stakes are large because it will take many, many hours and many dollars in material.

My designs tend toward the mixing of traditional and modern lines and material. I enjoy the juxtaposition of modern shape and form all-the-while using material with suggests something older, but in no way taken for an antique. I am not alone with this idea. The modern studio furniture movement is replete with craftsmen using this general design philosophy who build all kinds of beautiful things. However, the variation in form produced is quite incredible.

the idea

Thinking about a desk naturally leads thinking about a chair. One is not very good without the other. Naturally, the next thought is about a comfortable chair; an office chair. The light bulb went off - I have a chair and a superb one too. quartersawn white oak in wide boards; the largest of which is 17" across and 12' long. I've got material which matches the chair!

It is an antique and was my Grandfather's chair. It came from a Goodyear factory and a time when industry purchased the best and design was important. My Grandfather refinished it and it looks terrific. It is made of white oak, as was so much furniture of the time, and I just happened to purchase a fair amount of this wood last fall.

The interesting design element for this project is that little modern furniture is made in white oak. It is the wood of mission and Arts & Crafts pieces. I can then use recognizably "old" wood and put a modern twist in the design. This works well with the design concept. The difficult conceptual element is that quartersawn white oak has an unmistakable grain with a very strong pattern on it. It is beautiful, but it is very easy to overdo the design due to the visual confusion produced by the grain. You have to know your design limitations before you can begin your design, and with white oak you cannot ignore the grain; it leaps out at you.

With the wood selected I thought about design. I had recently made this walnut bench and used a seven degree tapered Windsor-type leg connection. It was the first time I made this joint and I really enjoyed making it and thought it absolutely rock solid. I had to make a special tool for the job which took quite some time, so I have a head start. Using this joint allowed me to make the bench with no visual distractions under the seat (stretchers). I allowed the leg to pass though the seat and carved the endgrain of the leg. It was a nice effect; somewhat oriental in look, but unmistakably modern. With this idea in mind, I thought about the desk. The desk would have too long a leg for a single connection like the bench. But, I didn't want stretchers either. That suggested two connections near the top. And, that suggested a box.

This is a picture of such a desk with such a box.However, I can't pass the leg through the drawer, so I need a extension of some kind. I thought about that for a while and ended up with this basic design.

This allows the leg to pass through the desk without stretchers and yet be very solid. I started out with the top and bottom of the box square, then went to both being radiused, and then to only the top being radiused. The top, to my eye, needed to be different.

the details

Wood moves. Sometimes, it can move a lot. You can't fight it, and if you try the wood will just crack or crush. This movement dictates the design, or at least parts of the design. Here's an exploded view of the parts after I went though the process of thinking about building a solid, well constructed piece.

The side, "toothed" pieces are multiple through tenons with go through the top. (I've been thinking, woodworkers need a new name for this joinery. How about, soldier tenons?) I could have used other types of hidden joinery, so this is design element. It was popularized in Arts & Crafts furniture. I wanted to interrupt the vast expanse of the top with something; take it from plain to clearly handmade. Also, I like the joinery to be visible; at least on this piece. I'm not against hidden joinery, but if joinery is well executed it can be a great design element.

Otherwise, you can see the dadoes and dovetails for various parts and the legs piercing the box. The two drawer dividers will fit into a small dovetail and will be have a loose joint on the other end. This will allow the bottom to move across its width. Here's the basic idea after about four or five hours of design time. I'm happy with it and next I start milling up the wood.

I will design and size the smaller elements as I get feedback from the wood and the relationship of the parts to each other, the viewer, and the user. The drawer pulls are only there for a visual....I will likely make the drawer pulls, and will think about that design as I go through the building.

Rikon Bandsaw Model 10-345: Big Problems

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 15:20:00 +0000

Woodworkers spend a lot of time figuring out what to buy. This post is for those considering a bandsaw.

I have never been more disappointed in a tool purchase than with my Rikon bandsaw. Nor can I imagine a more complete failure of a piece of equipment and in a company. It's a sorted story and it ended in completely junking the entire saw. A brand new saw, less than a year old, is now a couple of hundred pounds of scrap. I hope this cautionary tale keeps you from making the same mistake. If you're thinking about a Rikon bandsaw scratch it off the list now.

First, I am a weekend woodworker. I don't spend hours on my equipment, but I do spend a significant amount of time figuring out what to buy. I want it to be good equipment. I've been around tools and equipment most of my 50-years and I'm no slouch at using and tuning them.

I bought the saw at Woodcraft and brought it home and set it up. The most immediate problem was blade movement; the blade jumped significantly. To rule out an existing blade problem, I went and bought a replacement blade and also a large resaw blade. The replacement blade made no difference and the resaw blade had severe jump - in excess of 1/4" - perhaps as much as 3/8". I called Rikon and Rod, the Vice-President, had me attempt to adjust the bottom wheel. I played with this fussy adjustment for quite some time to no avail, but I did get a good feel as to the adjustments effect. I called again and Rod said he would send a new bottom wheel. The new wheel arrived and it was the wrong wheel and didn't fit. I packaged the wheel up. Rod sent another wheel. This wheel fit and I put it on, but the saw was no better. I called Rikon again. Rod sent another wheel. The third wheel performed no better. I called Rikon again. At this point it didn't seem like much more could be done and Rod said he would send a new saw out. It may sound like an easy fix; however, it wasn't. After a while the new saw arrived and after spending quite some time getting the old saw off my mobile base I unpacked the new saw, wrestled it off the crate and back into the mobile base. Reusing the palate, crate and packing material, I re-crated and re-packaged the old saw, wrestled it out of the shop and set it outside for shipping. This took most of an entire weekend - it's not easy to lift and lower 400 pound machines many times over. After what turned out to be a many month process I was looking forward to a good, working saw. I later found out that the first saw's upper wheel was not straight; something I had mentioned to Rikon and found in my own extensive troubleshooting. My gauges told me the top wheel was out of round.

The new saw was better, but far from perfect. But, having gone through so much hassle with the old saw I decided I might live with the new one. However, large resaw blades still hammered the rear bearing. I mostly used very small blades in the saw and it performed ok. I rarely had a large blade in the saw and only resawed a couple of maple boards. The saw was plenty powerful for that task, but the blade tracking or wobble was an intractable problem.

Summer came and I spent little time in the shop. However, cool weather came back around and migrated back to my favorite cool weather activity; my shop. My son was using the saw with a 1/4" blade to cut 1/4" plywood for a sword he was keen on making for Halloween. I was with him and he was on the saw for a while. Upon stopping the saw it would not restart.

I checked everything and couldn't find a problem. I got the meter out and checked the breaker - nothing. I checked the outlet - everything was correct. I took the switch out and checked both poles. Again, everything appeared to be fine. I took the motor cover off and checked the motor. Both poles had continuity from the motor leads to the plug and both sides were getting correct voltage on a 20 amp breaker. The motor had failed! I actually thought it was the capacitor, but my electrical knowledge doesn't extend to motors. In case I missed anything I moved the saw over to the tablesaw outlet - nothing. I was incredulous and pretty pissed-off. I have spent more time troubleshooting the saw than using the saw and it had eaten into my limited shop time and now I had no saw at all. I had spent months, literally, screwing around with the bandsaw from hell and now something new.

I wrote Rikon - Rod - an email. I waited and didn't hear anything. Finally, I called and talked to someone else. I then got an email back from Rod blaming me for the wheel problem and the motor problem. I quote, "We attributed the upper wheel issue (on the first saw) to be caused by excessive blade tension and/or leaving blade tension on for extended periods of time. Your current wheel issue coupled with the motor capacitor failure all but confirms excessive blade tension." The problem with this so called theory is that I received BOTH saws with the wobble problem. I barely even used the first saw and hadn't spend much time on the second. I couldn't have and didn't create the problems on the first saw and certainly not the wobble on the second saw. The second issue is that I couldn't really put a large blade on the second saw because of the wobble, so I most often used a small blade which uses little tension. The over tension idea is pretty over-baked. Especially, for as little use as the bandsaw experienced.

I replied to Rod's email writing this all down and heard nothing back. I sent another email a week or so later and Rod wrote back telling me they'd repair the saw if I shipped it back to them! I couldn't believe it. The motor bolts on with three bolts and Rikon wants me to ship it back! They want me to ship the saw a second time, but now pay the shipping, build a palate and shipping box and move the saw all over again. I'm reliving the first nightmare.

Rikon refused to send a new motor, refused just sending the saw back, and generally refused to be any kind of a partner with this problem. It is astoundingly difficult for me to lift and move this saw. Let alone box it and ship it.

Does anyone need any scrap steel?

Do you really think this saw is a "best value" on Fine Woodworking or Woodworking magazine? Or, for that matter, anywhere? It may appear a good value, but 400 pounds of scrap steel in a small shop is significantly valueless.

A Tale of Two Cabinets

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 17:18:00 +0000

James Krenov, who just passed away in October (2009), taught an entire generation of woodworkers to converse with wood; to listen and respond with a thoughtful approach; the dialog informing the very shape and feel of a thing. Design is a tricky thing, but through such a conversation we can at least arrive at a semblance of design quality. We can follow the threads which challenge our notions and preconceptions and thus raise the tenor of the look and feel of a piece beyond that which typically lies within us. Often those ideas raise our skills pushing us to explore new methods and new approaches.

Sometimes a design comes together just as conceived. But, more often that which was pictured or drawn fails to live up to expectations. Something says no, we listen, it morphs, we adapt; and after a while we arrive with something that looks better for the conversation.

The following tale brightly illuminates this process. I like to make two of something, especially when there are many steps and many problems to work out. I recently wrote in Cabinet-Failures and Illusions about making a handle for a cabinet. I also made an identical cabinet to the one pictured in the aforementioned post; however the two cabinets, although cut at the same time of the same species of wood, have such a different look and feel. One has a more formal feel; tall and straight-grained, clear and uniformly colored. The other one is soft with little obvious grain, but with subtle shading and hue. Dark areas define the panels and the chocolate tone of the wood is quiet and somber. It would be easy to assume that two identically sized and constructed cabinets would look good with identical handles. But, the handles for the chocolate cabinet don't compliment the tall cabinet. I had a long discussion (most of the summer) with the tall cabinet and I eventually ended up down by the creek looking for branches. I found some chokecherry and cut several branches and after stripping them of branches, leaves and bark set them aside to dry . Upon discovering the shape and length that fit and cutting them to size I turned some walnut rings which I could slip over each end. Each was sized to slip to a certain point and then stop. I intended to dowel them through the back and into the cabinet. It just didn't look right. The walnut interrupted the line of the branch and took away from the simplicity of the line. I decided to eliminate the walnut altogether and let the shape of the branch define the cabinet front. That worked. I embonized each handle and mounted them using walnut dowels.

A Thousand Measureless Minutes

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sat, 02 May 2009 00:26:00 +0000

Tim slid down the chute feet first. Now, there was no going back, no return. The lip was four feet above the black pool and there was no way to reach it once plunged into the darkness. The sides were slick, polished, and beautiful. The pool opened at the opposite end into a slot; a narrow, deep, twisting slot just as dark and beautiful as the pool. Somewhere the slot opened up, somewhere unknown.

When Tim plunged in he took a moment to surface and I heard the slight panic, the thrashing, the unmeasured breaths. I felt the tension. His struggle lept off the walls and echoed down the canyon. It lasted a while and stopped and then between deep sucking breaths I heard, "It's cold."

We had been hot - very hot. We had covered the three-miles up the canyon with all of our ropes and gear in about a half-an-hour and it had been difficult to get into the deep part of the canyon, now several hundred feet above us. After walking the ledges we had repelled and then down-climbed into the deepest hole. The world changed. Gone was the ragged, wind-eroded sandstone. Replacing it were the sensuous curves of this half water world; elegant, towering, twisting, fantastic; irreducibly complex - horrifyingly simple.

I slid down the chute. I struck and forgot everything. The hole was numbingly cold and the shock from sweat to freezing was instantaneously alarming - panicking. I had perhaps ten-pounds of gear on and my feet found no bottom, my hands no grip. Air seemed in short supply. The channel was too narrow to swim. A frantic dog paddle found another curve and another. Then the narrow opened, my feet found a bottom and Tim stood at the end laughing....

I clearly remember walking down the trail after climbing all day at Seneca. Gear jingling, laughing, fooling around. It was 1993 and we were single. Besides work, we climbed. I perfected lead-climbing and Tim learned rope work, gear placement, and the craft of climbing. We ate pizza at the general store and drank too much in the evenings around the fire. They were the best days.

...The valley lay below, far below. The truck, perhaps a mile away, appeared as a speck. Only a few feet separated me from the summit of Six Shooter, but the move was committing and the fall not very appealing. A smear, an incut hold, and a mantle was all that remained, but I didn't like the smears on red sandstone.
Earlier, I had slipped on a very solid layback; the sandstone shoving my foot downward, and now I was thinking about the consequences of a fall. On lead, I sometimes go up, then down, and up again, testing, feeling the holds, readying myself for the moment when I move up regardless of what lies above. I yelled at Tim, "Watch me." I torqued my foot onto the soft rock and climbed. The moves were easy. I stood and nothing else was above me.

The top was about the size of a good Thanksgiving table. To the south the Abajo's broke the deep blue sky. To the north, the LaSalles, fresh with new snow beamed white against the red rock of Indian Creek. To the west, Canyonlands, The Maze, and Needles lay all around. I readied the ropes and brought Tim up. We had climbed as one; connected by the ropes, by our long friendship, by the trust forged in our many adventures. The rope; our bond, our suffering, our tears, our easy laugh, our deep friendship.

Desert spires are special. These unique summits give only after taking, but leave you giddy with wonder. I've stood amongst the lumbering, snowy summits and glaciated peaks of North America, yet these summits, who fall in just a day, never fail to leave one awestruck. We shared the summit, another place marked our passing and etched our memory. We readied the repel...

The brambles in Quebec demand skin in trade for passage. Each taking their meager portion - only a bit, a small sample. But, they are countless hordes. They ate at us piece by piece. Bit by bit through the night. We have a picture of our legs after the race. More blood and scabs then skin. It was the first time - the first adventure race. Crack for junkies like us.

....We sat and surveyed the expanse below and plotted our route. Perhaps a thousand feet below Salt Creek cut into the valley floor and began its relentless destruction; each layer of sandstone giving up begrudgingly and suddenly falling to the next until after twenty-miles a hundred layers lay breached. We plunged off the edge of the mesa hoping to find water but also quench our thirst for a place no one had been. In a little hole in the rock we found water and in the slot canyon we quenched our desire. Cougar tracks gave away the ghost who traveled this place at night. The canyon narrowed and became a slot. It slithered through the pinions, gathered itself together and fell hundreds of feet in one crashing, silent crescendo. We climbed up and around. We spent the remainder of the day clambering through and sandstone and the pinions. In the end we climbed back up the mesa and sat around the fire eating and talking into the night. We went out to see the stars above the mesa; shooting stars celebrated the night and the place. Orion lay deep on the western horizon, lord over the winter no more. The stillness was profound. The immensity fathomless.

I was puking on the road; great heaves and spasms, but nothing was coming out. There was nothing. We had been racing for solidly for over 24-hours over what seemed like weeks and I had eaten almost nothing. I was done, but Tim was in front - pushing, pulling. Each of us came and went - equally spent and equally energetic. When one stood; when one pushed, we both stood. We won that race. 350 miles and seven days. It marked a new point in what we thought was possible - everything.

We bounced up and down Comb Ridge like bunnies spurred on by the Anasazi and the country itself. Two-days of ruins, petroglyphs, and sandstone. I have written about this place many times and I was happy to let Tim fall under its spell. Our climbing skills were put to good use as we searched the deep washes and climbed the ridge again and again.

To have American antiquity spread before is humbling. We are brothers with the people who called these places home. We felt them. Restless, they discovered everything and filled every corner. The West; these mountains, buttes, and open spaces stirs men who were born in the wrong time. We are better suited to walk with Colter, Powell, Bridger, and Lewis.

Just this week the intrepid explorer, writer, and artist Everett Ruess bones were found on Comb Ridge. Fitting, the mystery of his disappearance was solved this week and his bones were found in this place. He was killed by Utes in 1934 - perhaps the last man killed by Indians. I suspect he would have liked his resting place. It's curious and fitting that William Posey also died about 10-years earlier at Comb Ridge. Perhaps the last Indian killed by whites. Ruess said,

Adventure is for the adventurous.
My face is set.
I go to make my destiny.
May many another youth be by me inspired to leave the snug safety of his rut,
and follow fortune to other lands.
God, how the wild calls to me.
There can be no other life for me but that of the lone wanderer.
It has an irresistible fascination.
The lone trail is the best for me.

Throughout the trip we were reminded of the vastness of space in the night sky and the vastness of time in the stones around us. We noted these things and talked of our adventures together, we laughed easily and enjoyed the wind in our faces. We talked about one day being forced, like all men, to leave these places and return from whence we came.

Ruess said much of this far better.

"Music has been in my heart all the time, and poetry in my thoughts. Alone on the open desert, I have made up songs of wild, poignant rejoicing and transcendent melancholy. The world has seemed more beautiful to me than ever before. I have loved the red rocks, the twisted trees, the red sand blowing in the wind, the slow, sunny clouds crossing the sky, the shafts of moonlight on my bed at night. I have seemed to be at one with the world. I have rejoiced to set out, to be going somewhere, and I have felt a still sublimity, looking deep into the coals of my campfires, and seeing far beyond them. I have been happy in my work, and I have exulted in my play. I have really lived."

My dying breath will fire my last thoughts and they will be of the wild places and the people I've shared those places with. There are a handful of people, many places, and there is still time....

Yin and Yang Vase

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 03:00:00 +0000

For the last several days the trees at the office have been getting trimmed. Wood is scarce here on the high plains and I couldn't let good hardwood be turned into mulch so I snagged a nice piece of locust. I used the crotch out of the log and turned this yin and yang vase.

Winter is quickly fading and I'm being pulled outside; away from the shop; toward other interests. This vase fits nicely with the idea being puled in opposite directions; of wanting different things, opposite things; and achieving some balance between all of those interests. Yin and Yang are about disjunct or opposing forces which are interconnected and interdependent in the natural world, each giving rise to each other in turn. Yin and yang are bound together, yet they are in opposition. So is a balanced life. Our interests are in opposition each to the other - we can only do one at a time, and the pursuit of one keeps us from perfecting the other. Yet, each informs the others. My woodworking informs my business interests. My interest in science improves my ability to perfect rational thought. Climbing, mounting biking, and other outdoor pursuits all inform each other. My interest in Western history informs my exploring. I can explore more remote places because I keep pursue all of these sports. Hard physical exertion in turn improves the mind. A sharp mind is necessary in the business world. Rational thought ties everything together. Each make me better at the other. Each turns on the other. They all nourish each other and they all nourish me.

Tammi is an artist and a scientist. Each is necessary for the other. There have been some studies lately which demonstrate, rather pointedly, that right brain activities (art, for example) improve the abilities of physicians (a generally left brain activity). For me, not only does all of the varied things I do make everything I do better, but it keeps my life sharp, vibrant, and new. The cycle is self-renewing, self-propagating; regenerative.

The duplicitous and adulterous wanderings of both our psyche and our amorous attentions are good. Like a good sports team these various sojourns build depth; strength. The key is limiting their practice so as to build strength in their cross-pollination and not foundering around trying to milk all of the blossoms.

I think I'll go work in the shop, well, a good book would be nice, no - I need a ride, ah - what I really need is a week in the desert.

The New President - An Historical Perspective

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 15:07:00 +0000

Regardless of your politics, ideology, religious beliefs, or affiliation there is a element of this election that reaches beyond simple history. This event is one of those foundational movements in history when things shift. Events like the crossing of the Delaware, the return of Lewis and Clark, Hiroshima, and the Arkansas Nine.

America has always represented an ideal; an egalitarian society; a place of almost limitless possibility. Perhaps the first in the history of civilization and certainly a place that, at least on its face, represents the future of humankind. However, that ideal has been tainted by racism; by the specter that some are not equal. For our lifetimes that fact has been just underneath our collective skin; our promise unfulfilled; our destiny derailed. Photo: Revolution Studios

There is something new. Nothing ends, yet no one had such a bold dream that the pendulum of history could change with one event. That is why the old men weep. The victory in this election is not Obama's alone, but it is the exhaling of a million held breaths. Perhaps the victory is not Obama's at all. It is our victory. The realization that history will mark this single point as an end to what Truman began is, for many, beyond words. That the silent protest of Rosa Parks, the cries of King, and the sacking of Detroit are not only behind us, but that we did in fact produce a more perfect Union. That we can go froward. That the dreams of all can now be our collective dream.

If possible, there is even something bigger. Beyond these shores, there are children in Kenya and university students in France who look to us, and with joy and hope, wonder if what we have accomplished - they can accomplish. We can only hope.

The Cabinet - Failures and Illusions

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 02:52:00 +0000

"As a perfectionist, you exist only so long as you are tying to make that perfect piece: on second thought, "perfect" is perhaps not quite what I mean, since the very word implies something beyond criticism and also remote from the warmth that keeps our work alive. But I have now and then wanted to do a piece - just one single thing - which would be the sum of all my efforts, and could justify my existence as a craftsman. Of course, that urge serves best while it is an illusion. And what is that perfect piece? You complain because it eludes you--and are secretly glad because you have to complain. You mutter about the a detail or a whole piece being not quite as you wanted...Some mistakes you make and correct...You stand in front of a piece all evening wandering, is it good? Yes, but what about THAT part: is it a mistake? What will happen if you back up and change it? You'll spend time, run the risk of spoiling the whole piece and the result will be - a line: too straight to be quite alive? An edge: if you make it more even will this be a loss, or a noticeable gain? You are not so much worried about the effort or even risk involved, as over something else...." James Krenov - A Cabinetmaker's Notebook

I almost failed the cabinet.

Handles are important. Either they are hidden; unobtrusive - allowing only the piece to exist, or they call out for you to use them. Mostly they do the latter. They beg you to open the hidden; to explore a drawer, open a door. I wanted mine to invite you to look inside and to provide something new on the outside; something unique, something complete.

I envisioned a simple walnut handle, but that was somehow too simple. I wanted it to be a very elongated oval. The shape of the piece suggested something elongated. I plotted how to turn it, how to hold it, how to keep it from spinning out of control. After roughing out the knobs and using a considerable amount of time I was ready for the oval. It was disaster. I couldn't see the knob to turn it. I spun one and quickly destroyed my prior work. My idea of perfection was shattered, my vision marred, and failure seemed like a likely end.

I brooded for days while doing other things. I knew failure could be turned, but that is seldom easy and often fraught with doubt. It is difficult to replace a vision - a concept. A spark finally lit, a new vision started to form and I liked it. I went and got a small piece of ebony and cut up some cardboard in some possible shapes. I liked it. I changed the radius a bit. I cut a wooden template. I liked it. I cut some walnut into 1/4" slices and made the handle. I liked it. My outlook improved, but I still had a long way to go with something I had never done before. I needed to mount the handle; to fix it to the doors. Numerous configurations lead me back to the lathe.

I cut up the ebony and readied it for the lathe. I turned it down, pulled it off and decided it was too big. I turned it down some more and was pleased. The other three fell in quick succession.

Often, with cabinet work you spend tremendous amounts of time on something which can then be destroyed so quickly, so thoroughly, that the last steps are almost painful. There is a kind of terror in the air. I had to put a deep, angled mortise down the center of a very small, very hard knob. 1/32" was too much error.

I played with some ideas and arrived at a reasonable solution which would accomplish the task and keep my fingers their original length. My jig worked ok, and a little bench work cleaned up the remainder. I hurriedly finished the remaining work so I could see it finally together. I always get inpatient at this point - wondering if the proportion is right, if the line is good, if it works. I have to mentally slow down; appreciate the ending; not screw up. There's no mistake at this point which wouldn't ruin everything and the pieces were fragile and small.

Once it was finished I was pleased. The handles did invite you to open the doors. The chocolate tones of the wood wooed the walnut and ebony. It was a whole.

Victory comes in small steps. Each piece a part of a whole becomes so intertwined, so dependent on the other, that the victories become indistinguishable. New failures await - the pursuit of perfection presents this foreboding horizon and we plod on to our demise and our ecstasy. It all binds the craftsmen, the cabinetmaker and the artist in its wonderful grip.

I still have my illusion.

Shop - design and a cabinet

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 18:01:00 +0000

Producing interesting new work is generally accomplished by pushing one's boundaries, experimenting, and focusing on the creative process; however, the goal is seldom attained on each new project. (Sometimes, ideas seemingly explode out of nowhere, but those ideas are often hatched from some latent genesis - read"Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell) We tend to move forward in fits and starts; thinking, applying the knowledge of our errors, contemplating what-ifs, acquiring new skills, and infusing new views into our vision.

I have completed several recent projects which have included design elements that I wished to incorporate into some new work - a kind of uber project which includes all of my recent ideas. I got the impression of a wall cabinet with exposed joinery. A modern piece; tall and thin with compartments, drawers, and cubbyholes. On a recent trip to San Antonio I had some time to draw and flesh-out some of the details. After quite a few pages of doodles I had a workable design and I liked it so much that I thought I would make two and try to get one into a show or gallery. On the way home I ran into such a gallery owner on the plane - how convenient! Yes, I did get her card.

I generally draw my projects in CADD and work out all of the dimensions; however, with this cabinet I only sketched all the parts and pieces and then went and found the wood. I was thinking of hickory with walnut details as I was looking for high contrasts and unusual grain. This time I let the wood dictate the size and to some degree inspire the details.

There's a story in all this. In the midst of building this cabinet I was digging through the stacks in the library at Colorado State University in Fort Collins and found a book by Krenov. I was vaguely aware of him, but never studied his work. I was fascinated, his work is beautiful, his process seemingly renown, and I found, unknowingly, my cabinet was very much in the vein of his work. My work most likely mirrors his because he has so strongly influenced fine wooodworking today. I went on to read about him. He was very influential in establishing the studio craftsmen movement and especially the high level of skill with joinery which very much defines the best work now produced. I have unquestionably inherited those ideals and strive to attain that mastery.

Here's what he said about design; " ... however some of us may be able to sketch or imagine things in our mind, there are surprises, and problems, when it comes to the the work itself. We may have a fair idea of how we think a piece will look and may even make drawings, yet there are certain aspects in the nature of various forms and proportions - and especially in the material we work with, wood with its own graphic messages - that turn the whole process of working from a matter of certainty, or even rather definite suppositions, to a series of adventures that takes us from one uncertainty to another, with hopes of reaching a turning point."

I'm working toward more of a journey with my designs - it makes a pleasing destination and the time spent along the way is focused, intense, and ingrossingly serene.

I still have to make the inside of this cabinet and it is still unfinished, but I include pictures to illustrate what Krenov said, as it is what I experienced.

So far the joinery includes; through splined tenons, mortise and tenon - frame and panel doors, tapered sliding dovetails and tongue and groove back.

For now, I'm content to walk out to the shop and see if the piece works. To see if the proportion likes the low light, the bright light, the shade. To perceive what one might expect when it is opened. To find the shape of the handles while I wonder around my imagination and hover over my old and worn bench.

Shop - oak and leather headboard- post two

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 23:41:00 +0000

With the two rails of the headboard complete I also needed make the stiles, which also held the leather panels. This connection requires little strength so a lap joint is sufficient. I milled these up on the table saw. A rabbit in each rail and a rabbit in the stiles will hold the leather panel. The rabbit in the rails also holds the stile.

Once these tasks were complete the first glue-up was ready. It is important to make certain everything fits before glue-up. The process must go quickly and smoothly. Prepare everything and prepare for cleanup. No matter how carefully you spread the glue there will be a little squeezed out - especially on a mortise and tenon joint. A little bit a tape along the joint can prevent most of the squeeze-out from getting on the wood thus making clean-up easier and more effective.

In the previous post I briefly discussed wood movement. The bottom tenon was almost 10" long. To accommodate the wood movement I only applied glue to a little more than half of the top of the tenon. This will allow the wood to move downward. Also the tenon should be cut somewhat smaller across the width so as to allow for this movement.

After gluing up the rails and posts I set them aside and milled up the top from 3/4 and 5/4 oak. I then glued the two together and set them aside for the next day. The next day I joined their common edge and connected the top to the rails using biscuits.

Next the leather panels - the leather must be glued to something very smooth as any defect in the surface behind the leather will show on the face of the leather. I used smooth birch plywood, but I wanted the back of the headboard to all be oak too and the panels were not going to be covered. I milled up 1/4 oak and applied it to the back of the plywood creating what amounted to an oak panel. I used Titebond and spread the glue evenly with a tile trowel and then clamped all of the panels up in a large stack.

I didn't want to apply the leather until the wood color was applied and there was one coat of polyurethane on everything, so as to not discolor the leather. Again, I used water-based aniline stain. Tammi's the color expert and always helps me mix the colors and she matched the nightstands exactly. Because aniline stain is water-based it raises the grain so the wood must be hand sanded one final time.

I finished the headboard with a mixture of linseed oil, polyurethane, and thinner. I gradually increased the mix so that the last several coats were only polyurethane. This gives the finish a very deep and lusterious look.

With the panels finished it was time to apply the leather. Previously, I applied a small piece of leather to the birch plywood with regular wood glue (Titebond III) and everything appeared fine. The drying glue didn't bunch the leather and the connection was very strong. Also, I precut leather panels somewhat larger than needed intending to trim it tightly and neatly when the glue dried. I applied leather conditioner to the finished side of the leather, faced the finish sides to one another, and stacked and pressed the leather flat for a day or so. I didn't want, or need much glue on the panel to hold the leather; however, I did need a nice consistent application so I used a foam roller to spread the glue. This gave the surface a nice even spread. The leather, once fixed, was rolled out with a rolling pin, stacked, and clamped. Once set I trimmed the edges flush and set the panels in the rabbits designed to receive them. I trimmed out the interface of the panel and rabbit with quartersawn 5/16" x 1-3/8" oak strips.

I was very happy with the results and I fully expect to incorporate wood and leather together in the future.This is the king size headboard which is just over 6 foot long.

Shop - oak and leather headboard - post one

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 16:34:00 +0000

Design, it seems, never comes easy. It's difficult to just sit down and create; to bring an the feel of an idea into reality. In addition, when money and so much time and effort go into the final product the design is often the monster in the closet. I had been thinking about making a headboard for some time, but I wanted to modernize the look of the nightstands, which match the other antiques dressers. I was generally thinking about some kind of metal panels surrounded by the oak. Perhaps a typical country-type Victorian headboard, but replacing the panels with plate steel. However, the idea never really gelled as the elements were just a little too incongruent and a little too harsh. I just never could make it work.

For some reason the idea of replacing the metal with leather came to me and I really liked the possibilities. I did some research on gluing leather to wooden panels and the process was very workable. I then began drawing up some ideas which incorporated the look of the nightstands into a headboard with leather panels. It was fairly easy to come up with a good look as a headboard is fairly simple.

I found some nice cow hides at an eBay store and paid about 40-bucks for an entire hide! It was very good leather and the color worked with the intended color of the oak. I began looking for the oak and found two absolutely straight grained, rift-sawn, wide boards. They were perfectly sawn being perhaps the straightest grain boards of this length I'd ever seen or at least worked with. These two boards supplied the majority of the visual elements and the remainder was found rough-sawn at the local lumber yard. When working with a very heavy-grained wood like oak you have to pay attention to the visual aspects of the grain. Crazy grain (unless desired) going in all directions can really change the look of something - generally negatively. In addition, of equal importance, is what the grain is creating in the board - warp, twist, cupping, and other undesirable traits. For wide boards that include joinery (in this case tenons) it is important the boards be rift or quarter sawn to avoid expansion and contraction problems. I did some calculations of the widest boards as constructed and determined that the boards potential worst-case expansion could be about 3/16" perhaps 1/4". This calculation is based upon species, some low and high moisture content assumptions, width, and grain orientation. I'll discuss the construction details later.

I often use mortise and tenon joints and planned to on this headboard; however, I usually make the tenons on the table saw. Six foot boards make that impossible so I set up the router. With very wide tenons a router works well, but the set up, from start to finish, must be precise. On the table saw the repeatability of machine crates accuracy. With a router the accuracy must be created by you. First, as usual, make sure your boards are evenly dimensioned and exactly squared. There are some things to pay attention to: First of all you should try to mill all of the tenons at one time so I clamped both boards together. This eliminates two set-ups, but more importantly ensures that both boards are milled exactly the same. The tenons should be left a little thicker than needed and planed to the exact needed size before glue-up. I left these 1/64" large. Another key element is leaving the boards with several extra inches on each end. Only waste the center leaving the extra length proud so as to support the router. You must transfer the lines from one side to the other very carefully. Mark the guide board, not the cut. This ensures that the guide board remains in the same location and that the cheeks of of each tenon are even on each side once the tenon is fit into the mortise. Mess this up, even a little, and you'll have a big problem.

Once both ends are milled on both sides the boards can be unclamped and the tenons cut to their final size.

I made these tenons quite beefy with only an 1/8" shoulder as I wanted lots of strength and my mortise was being cut into a 6/4 post. After previously milling up the posts they were ready for mortises. I cut these with a mortiser.

I always carefully lay out my cuts on the wood even though I have to set up the machine. This keeps mistakes down to zero (hopefully). Again, lay out all of your pieces, clamped together, at the same time. I even mark out the waste so I don't cut on the wrong side of the line. This is always good practice and is usually learned the hard way. Once the machine is set up the mortises are easily cut and cleaned up with a sharp chisel.

Once all the pieces are cut they are ready for preassembly. This is when you check everything before applying glue. The tenons should fit snugly in the mortises, but not too tightly. Square everything up just as it will be assembled. Plane the tenons to just the right size.

Shop - a simple box

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 22:36:00 +0000

I had some scrap maple taking up space and had been thinking about making a small box with it. Those thoughts turned into this. This design is superb, but I can't claim the idea of this simple box. However, when I saw the picture I knew the maple was going to be this box. Making boxes is a great way to use scrap and to acquire and gain new skills.

The tiger maple is colored with a water-based aniline stain, and finished with a mixture of linseed oil, polyurethane, and thinner. This kind of finish, as you can see, brings out the beauty of the maple. I enthusiastically recommend this type of finish for many projects and dye for all woods where you need to bring out the figure. It works wonderfully with quarter or rift sawn oak, quilted or tiger maple, sycamore, and many exotics. On the previous picture frame post I did not use dye as I did not want the flake to pop.

The box was formed by using only a box core bit and hand planes. The two sides are simply routered with a 1/2" box core bit at the "handle" while the angled part below is cut off on the table saw leaving half of the original radius. The rounded top of the sides was formed by hand. The sides are lower than the bottom and thus form two legs. The top is hand planed to round with the box core bit forming a hollowed out area in the inside. In addition, the box core bit formed the indent in the front and top which provides a handle. The bottom was fit into a dado. The side and bottom are 1/2". The box is about 12" long and is the new home of Tammi's jewelry.

Shop Made Picture Frames - MDF - post three

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 19 Oct 2008 03:11:00 +0000

By far the easiest, cheapest, and most numerous frames that I make are made out of MDF. Medium-density fiberboard is an engineered wood product made by breaking down softwood into wood fibers and combining the fibers with wax and a resin binder, and forming the panels by applying high temperature and pressure. It is a building material similar in application to plywood but made up of separated fibers, not wood veneers. It is denser than normal particle board. MDF has a homogeneous structure with uniform texture and properties throughout.There are no identifiable grains or knots seen at the edge, end or face, nor any internal voids or pits or variation in surface hardness. MDF can't be stained or colored like traditional wood so it must be painted. Also, it could be gilded; work I've done on steeples and something I wish to apply to picture frames, but I have yet to try it.

MDF is highly machinable so just about any profile you can machine may be incorporated into the picture frame. It can also be glued together face to face and machined so that profiles thicker than 3/4 can be obtained. In this simple finished example, the frame is about 6 inches wide with a rounded inside and outside. The inside is 1/2" and the outside 1/2" and 3/4" creating a type of torus or thumb. See figure 2. (The painting is by Tammi and is of Bridger sleeping. One of his toys, a large praying mantis, contrasts innocence with impending and inherent danger. There was a lot of light scatter on the painting so the picture isn't the best.)

To create the overall profile I start by ripping 8' runs of the flat sections to the desired width of the frame . Due to weight and cost savings I generally make the flat sections out of 1/2" MDF. I then mill up the various profiles from smaller rips of either 1/2', 3/4" sheet or some glued up combination and then apply the milled profiles to the 8' sections. This effort often results in the use of quite a few clamps along with some creative clamping. After the glue drys I then cut the miters and assemble.

The Miter Sled

The miters must be absolutely precise. The best way to saw wide miters is to build a miter sled for use on the table saw. Of course the wider the miter, the more a fraction of a degree shows. With a picture frame this error is multiplied by eight. This means that a error of 1/8 of a degree will produce, in a picture frame, three tight miters and a miter that is off one degree!

Painted MDF tends to show every flaw, and I mean every little flaw. So, exactitude is critical. The miter sled setup must therefore be exact. A miter sled is built like a typical sled with the guides for the miters fixed at the correct angles rather than having a back fence. The best way to accomplish an exact 45 degree angle is to assemble the sled minus the miter guides and run the sled up and down the table saw with the blade down and off. Mark the front and back of the sled at the exact center of the blade. Draw a line which connects the two points. You now have the exact center line of the blade. Determine the location of the "point" of the miter on the sled along the center line. This line marks the shortest part of the cuts mites, which will be on both the left and right miters. With a beam compass set the one point at the intersection of the back of the sled and the center line. (I suggest using a point rather than a pencil) Stretch the compass to the predetermined point of the miter and scribe a radius. An exact 45 degree angle is now described by the two points which intersect the back of the sled at the outside of the radius and the miter "point". (The rear of the sled must be exactly perpendicular to the center line to achieve accuracy. If not, scribe a perpendicular line to the center line. The further apart all of these line and points are, the greater the accuracy of the setup. The easiest way to accomplish a perpendicular line is to again use your compass. Move the center point along the center line a short distance and increase the diameter. Scribe two points where this radius meets the original radius. Connect these two points with a straight line and you have two perfectly perpendicular lines. ) Next, prepare absolutely straight miter guides for the sled. It is beneficial to cut a small dado along the length of the guide at the intersection of the sled and the guide so any sawdust or other obstruction is prevented from affecting the angle of the miter. Attach the miter guides, add some clamps to keep things in place and you're done.

Three Examples

Figure 1

Figure 2

Figure 3

Finishing

After cutting the miters and glue-up the frames must be painted. Before painting I run a very tight bead of caulk around each milled section. This keeps any small cracks from showing and creates a more professional finish. I always spray paint the frames flat black and then spray a light coating of satin varnish. This keeps the frame from looking flat and also too shiny.

Shop made picture frames - post two

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 17:56:00 +0000

I thought that I would do a series on picture frames having done the previous post. I get a fair number of hits on the blog for woodworking. Oddly enough wood movement seems to be the most popular. Tendons come a close second. As Tammi is an artist, I've made quite a few frames and have perfected a way of making very cheap ones. I'll cover those next post.

Getting anything framed is a serious investment; however, shop-made frames don't cost too much. Some can even be made for a few dollars. One of the essential elements is design. Time spent in design always pays off. Responding correctly and appropriately to the artwork is essential. Always remember that it is the art that's primary. A frame just shows it off.

Tammi needed a frame for one of her early shows and the painting clearly called for an unusual frame. This is a large painting - just about four feet tall. Tammi came up with an idea and I tried to carry it out. This crazy frame what we came up with in the end. (Double click for a larger view.) The wood is riftsawn oak and came from one board. I found the board at Home Depot while looking for something else and scarfed it up. At a mill it would have gone for many times the price of normal or flat sawn oak.

The point of this frame is that, expect for the curved miters, it is very simple. The painting is held with a simple rabbit which I milled before cutting out the curves. The outer edge is rounded over with a 3/8 roundover bit. The finish is simple Danish Oil, but before putting on the oil I rubbed in red pigment. Thus, the frame has a very subtle red color. With a very complex painting a simple frame works very well. Keeping away from complex wood grain is critical. If you used these curves with a complex grain, the painting would be overcome and the striking curves lost in the conflicting grain.

What is unusual about this frame is the curved miters, but keeping away from straight lines is what really makes this frame sing. I made the curved miters by making a full-sized template of the entire design out of 1/4" plywood. I laid out the full frame and cut the template out, one miter both sides at a time. I had to layout the frame slightly larger than needed to account for the cuts. Thus each miter mirrored the other side. I then worked each side of the miter until both fit tightly as the width of the blade forced the "low points" and "high points" apart. Once all four miters (eight sides) were tightly fit I laid the four templates along the board and marked the board. After cutting out the oak about 1/4" wide of the line I used the template as a router guide and cut left, right, top, and bottom out with the router. I used double sided tape to adhere the plywood to the oak.I assembled the frame using biscuits located on some of the straiter curves.

I like to hang around Tammi's paintings at the openings and listen to the comments. During this opening two men who where quite obviously gallery owners spent some time in front of Tammi's painting. After discussing it at length, one said, "I like the painting, but I could never sell the $800 frame." Wrong, she didn't spend that kind of money, but she does have to put up with me.

Shop made picture frame

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 21:35:00 +0000

Tammi painted a landscape for me from our Yellowstone vacation of which I'm very fond. This picture does not do it justice, but you'll get the idea.

Early one morning near the end of our vacation we packed up and headed out and the buffalo were heading down to the creek for an early morning drink. The Tetons were still hazy in the morning light and the breath of beasts hung in the air. It was a perfect scene and one I will always remember. Some of the pictures from that morning are on this post.

The painting itself is about two-foot wide and almost four-foot tall, so it's a large work. The painting has been drying for a while and I've been contemplating how best to frame it. I wanted to reflect the ruggedness of the Tetons, but give it a modern feel too. Both aren't easy to accomplish. I've been milling over the design in my head for quite some time. I was all over the place, but I had one overriding idea. I had a piece of beautifully-grained fir that seemed perfect for the piece, but I wanted to push the rugged idea a bit and create a feeling of roughness. I randomly worked the surface with a 1/2" gouge - this took about 3 or 4 hours. I knew it was exactly the look I wanted as soon as I had a small section done and it looked great against the strong grain of the fir. Keeping the gouge sharp and not splintering the splinter-prone fir was quite a challenge, but it was easy to go over the many splintered areas again. That done, I knew I would have to combine the rough look with something smooth and I worked with numerous ideas - a different grained wood, using the fir as a band, inside, outside, similar to a mat, and many more.

I played around with some of my ideas and finally put some of them into CAD. I came up with this. I switched the fir from being lower than the surround to being on top of the surround. I still was unsure of the colors of everything. I initially envisioned the rough fir being stained about the color of the buffalo with the surround being very light using a grainless very even wood. I began shaping the fir.

I cut the straight edges to round forming a gentle curve along each side. I then beveled the back so that the rough board would appear to float over the surround. This created the inside. I wanted a contrast to the roughness of the fir and thus went for something very smooth - I used MDF. I spray painted it black and then gave it a coat of polyurethane. I used a varnish-tung oil mix on the fir. When it came together, I had three nice contrasts; the light and the dark, the rough and the smooth, and the round and the straight. I was quite happy with the results and will no doubt play with this design in the future. It is quite striking and shows off Tammi's work very nicely.

Beef Basin and the Anasazi

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 19:30:00 +0000

In June the grass grows tall and straight in Beef Basin. It rises from the red clay and the white sand and on strong heads and bares its fruit; lush and green in great waves it bows to the wind as it has for thousands of years. For a brief time it is lord over the sage and king of all that it surveys. But soon the heat will topple its throne, bake its temple as with fire, and then, the wind will only find dust.

The Basin, this improbable place, this enigma, this island, lies wide in the mist of chaos. To the north, hard up against the valley sit the Needles - Ceder Mesa Sandstone worn into knotted canyons, jumbles of small ravines and pinnacles, and vertically walled narrow valleys. To the west lies Gypsum Canyon. Deep and rugged its jagged edge cuts the valley and spews its collected hate into the Colorado - always the lowest elevation in the area and fixed at the confluence of Gypsum and the Colorado at 3,700 ft. To the south-east the Abajo's cut the sky. The highest peak within the range is Abajo Peak at 11,360 ft (3,463 m). These steeply sided peaks covered with impenetrable deep bush, Gambel oak, and Ponderosa Pine are igneous intrusions laid down about 25 million years ago and thus are younger than the surrounding and lower mesas. Much of the water in the south part of the valley derives its source from the flanks of the most westerly peaks. To the south Dark Canyon cuts a ragged swath leading again to the Colorado. The moat complete, the valley rests in its peaceful solitude. I have never seen another soul in Beef Basin. It is visited, but not often.

Beef Basin is an archaeologically rich area. (See The Shell Bead) Although many of the ruins are widely known long explorations in the canyons and washes produce wondrous finds, but be prepared for rough country, climbing, and a little suffering. The ruins range from the open Hovenweep style (albeit with different masonry) of the "The Farm House Ruin" to high cliff dwellings; some extremely hard to find and get up into the ledge systems. The "Farm" complex is quite interesting and connected, I think, to other similar ruins in the valley. At some point in time the valley had a significant population. Interestingly, the farm complex is absent water today, whereas the other similar ruins are all tied to water. I suspect these ruins were abandoned in the drought from 1276 to 1299, but many have held up quite well. Some of the more remote ruins seem newer and still tied to the water that flows there today.

Beef Basin can best be accessed from the north and east with a normal 4x4 from Beef Basin Road, which leaves the pavement at Indian Creek, or from the south and west, on North Cottonwood Road just west of Blandings. From the pavement it is a committing drive either way.

One could easily spend two-weeks wondering among the mesas and canyons and only through several trips there have I truly appreciated its rugged beauty, its uncompromising remoteness, and unusual character of its location.

David Lavender...a Connection

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 02:17:00 +0000

When I first walked into Lavender Canyon and began to find out who it was named for (and later found differently) I certainly didn't know I would discover that David Lavender and I had a connection of sorts. It's an interesting story.

In One Man's West Lavender has a chapter called High-Altitude Athletics. He spins numerous yarns about our beloved mountains, but one in particular left me thunderstruck. Lavender begins:

There was the time when three of us back-packed into the head of Titcomb gorge in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming. We left timber line far behind, slogging along a stream milky with the floured rock discharged by the glaciers. The gorge was hung with a necklace of tiny sapphire lakes shimmering in cups of solid rock. Patches of moss were springy underfoot from snow just gone; draft blossoms of forget-me-not, primrose, king's-crown, and gentian, unable to exist in these rigorous climes as single plants formed societies of solid color. Bibs of white circled the peaks. Rank after rank, tier after tier. Thumbs and fingers and fists all pointing skyward. A dazzling world of swift, sharp lines and crystal light.

He goes on to describe the climb and near the end he identified the peak: Twin Peaks; which, because they were the first ascenders, they named. He never said who the other men where, but when I read Twin peaks my memory was taken back to 1991 and I was suddenly sure I had seen his name before and in his own hand.

Ross and I always kept a climbing journal and we've traded possession of the little worn green book a number of times. Currently, he was the keeper. I sent him an email and asked him to call me that night with the book in hand. He did, I read him the story, he let out a yell at the sound of Twin Peaks. He too had remembered. He looked up the day and we had a great time remembering the climb.

In 1991 my buddy and I climbed Gannet in the Wind Rivers walking from Gypsum Creek west of Green River Lakes to do so. We came out in Elkhart Park - a journey of about 60 miles through some pretty rough country; much of it trailless. After we climbed Gannet, we came back down on the west side of the divide and broke camp and headed for Titcomb Basin on the east of the divide via a peak that was almost never climbed - Twins Peak. On it was the original summit register (something I had never seen nor have ever heard of since that time, and I think a rare and interesting document) and the first name on the list was D. Lavender. The date of our climb was 13 August 1991 and the date Lavender listed was 10 August 1930. The three climbers were Lavender, Dudley Smith, and Bucknell. Three days later on 13 August 1930 Lavender climbed the peak again with Forrest Greenfield and Kendrick - the same day we were on the summit, but 61 years later. I recall a note they left calling Twins a"miserable summit". With the exception of a few early climbers around that 1930 date; including Petzolt and Koven (killed on Denali), no one climbed the peak again until late in the 1950's.

Lavender closed out his story of Twins with a story of suffering, but he said this first of that day.

Sitting in such a spot, hugging your knees, you can sense as a tangible thing the hurtling sweep of the earth on its orbit. The very vastness of the pattern stabs you to the heart. But it is not humility. Man would not aspire; he would not be laying his bold chains on every cosmic force he can reach were he only meek. The insignificance some persons profess to feel on seeing a natural wonder which more determined men, given motive, could sail over, tunnel under, or fly around is to me incomprehensible-a hang-over, perhaps, of the oriental fatalism that early tinged our religion. Why not a healthier pride-without arrogance-in being able to muster the courage to see and touch and share the fringes of creation, knowing that if we work well others can share still more?

The photos that day only have Ross on the summit, thus this is Twins looking north-west with my friend on the summit. The next picture is of me, but the previous day having climbed Gannet.(note the wool shirt and wool pants - it really doesn't seem that long ago!)

The Desert and the Anasazi - Lavender Canyon

noreply@blogger.com (Art) — Wed, 21 May 2008 16:25:00 +0000

The cliffs and mesas on the Colorado Plateau are a unique place with unique qualities. The red walls peel away memory – the memory of other places, of other times, and even the memory of self until all that is left is this space – this red cathedral and the thousands of years it whispers of in a thundering, but empty and still crescendo. The cliffs rise as memories fade.

Although I have not wandered in these canyons for almost a year, the intervening time is stolen – filtered in the sands - lost. That year fades like a single drop of sweat on hot Navajo Sandstone until even the feeling of memory is lost. Now, this place, this time is all I have; all I know; and all I desire - a jealous lover whose beauty bares no wayward glance and whose caress steals the heart – forever. It is also best to pay attention to this lover in the heat of summer or she will have her vengeance.

I have journeyed here again to find the anasazi, to wander in the beauty of the desert, and to lose myself; to let sun bleach my soul, to filter it through the hot sand and to have the ancients return it to me cleansed and clear. They have walked here until decades are measured in moments — they know the paths, the secret places, and the beginning and end of a footstep and the sum of a life. Perhaps the solitude here is part of the revelation - the serenity drives a kind of relentless introspection.

I lean heavy against the red escarpment as if to push it away like great Atlas or Hercules - palms outstretched, fingers pointed toward the sky, back bent, head bowed. The moments slip and I think about these things. The week lies ahead. Eventually, I pull away and stand erect. The moisture of my palm prints, much like the painted palm prints of the Anasazi, traces the outlines my hand. Another journey begins -discovery in many forms awaits.

Lavender Canyon lies between Bridger Jack Mesa and Salt Creek Canyon on the south side of Canyonlands National Park. I wished to explore the upper and deeper part of the canyon because of its proximity to Salt Creek Canyon. Tammi and I had been backpacking down Salt Creek a couple of years back and were surprised by the number of ruins and gliffs. Salt Creek has the largest ruin outside of Mesa Verde (Big Ruin) and is home to such famous pictographs as All American Man and the Four Faces.

Lavender Canyon was named after David Lavender. Twice nominated for a Pulitzer prize this rancher and all-around western man; who was mostly a hard scrabble cowboy, put his mark on western history and literature. Near Durango, as a young man, he worked a silver mine and on his stepfather's cattle ranch as a cowboy, helping with all the work until a drought and the Depression forced the ranch's closure. Near to my heart he was also an avid mountaineer. Among other things, he was a Princeton grad. He later became a dedicated conservationist. He realized the west he knew was dying and the result of this realization was his most well-read book which was published in 1943, "One Man's West". The book is in reprint by Bison Books and out in a new edition with notes and added material by David Lavender's son, David G. Lavender.

Armed with a permit you can drive into Lavender Canyon from Canyonlands, but that approach is best for uninitiated and untested. It is best approached from the most south-southwestern side of Bridger Jack Mesa. The 4x4 road that leads north around the west side of Bridger Jack makes for an easy passage, but it is a bit narrow. I don't know the name of the Mesa the road sits on (it is unnamed on the topo), but the camping on the Mesa is fine. Let's call it Little Bridger Jack Mesa. The mesa burned quite some time ago, so the top is mostly grass and offers easy going. I found the reason for the fire on the way back up. There is an old uranium mine just off the cliff on the southwest corner. It looks like the miner's camp was the source of the fire.

The way down off Little Bridger Jack is hard and the way up even harder, but it does make a good day's walk. You can also get down Dry Fork Canyon - I walked around to look off the side and the way is quite easy. The north end of Little Bridger Jack looks passable on the topo, but the lower wall can not be breached without a rope.

Lavender Canyon is deep and the walls consistently vertical. The first picture shows the central part of the canyon - about 1000 foot from the mesa top to the creek at the bottom. There are ruins in the canyon and some looking around will reward a good search; however, the wild parts of the canyon are pristine and the wildflowers were wonderful - Shooting Star, Pestemon, Desert Indian Paintbrush, coreopsis, and plenty of blooming cactus.

In a side canyon I found fresh cougar track, the rear paw measuring just over 4" wide. He was a big boy and I was weary coming back at dusk that evening. A few deer tracks and a bit of water gave up the reason for his night's vigil. (I've looked at this picture a few times and sometimes get the illusion that the print is "pushed up", not in to the soil - if you get that look again) There were few signs of the usual leftovers of Anasazi habitation in the canyon itself. Although the Anasazi did live here I suspect the times were shorter and the water and game scarcer. I saw no gliffs except at the ruins; however, there are more than likely some around. The wall are generally dead vertical too - there simply aren't many building sites.

As soon as I got near the lower parts of the canyons the deer flies began to attack in hordes. I nearly went crazy slapping and swatting and Deet didn't make any difference whatsoever. I eventually put on pants and the incessant biting stopped - the horde just swarmed my legs. I seldom wear pants in the desert, but from now on in June I think I will always wear them. The gnats and no-see-ems were no fun either. I'm still itching a week later.

Besides the canyon itself there is another reason to visit; Cleft Arch. Cleft arch is a graceful and massive arch, thick and even, wide and tall. It juts into the the canyon and demands a visit. I approached it from the south and begin to friction the lower steep slaps and faced climbed the remainder. It can be free climbed, but it took me some time to work it out and I am a fairly experienced climber (the face: friction -5.9, face - 5.7/8). I recommend the northern side as it provides only a steep walk. Begin up thru the narrow slot when you first see the northern side of the arch. Of interest is the arch itself - its name becomes apparent once inside. It is now actually two arches joined together by a narrow, but very deep cleft no more than 1/2" wide. Lying on the hot sand blue sky is visible thru the vertical shaft, which must be 30 or more feet thick.

I walked and explored throughout the day and in the afternoon periodically sought some shade as I began to overheat. The canyon become hotter and the little thermometer on my pack strap soon slipped to 110 degrees. The afternoon, the sand, the ceders, the cactus, and the terrain turned against me. I had gone too far, climbed too much and still had much of the mesa to ascend to get to camp. I ran out of water and I had started with 200 oz - more than 1-1/2 gal. The setting sun gave me respite from the heat and I struggled slowly up the last 700 foot of Little Bridger Jack Mesa, through the cliff bands, and made my way toward camp. I had suffered a good bit in the end, but the day was worth the effort. The thirteen-hour exploration had left its mark and tomorrow I would drive to Beef Basin. Here's how David Lavender said it:

"Fortunately God gave man a poor memory for physical discomfort. The active ingredients which made the hurt so brutal at the moment lose their keen edge in retrospect: we are able to look back on them with certain detachment and even make them subject matter of our dearest conversation pieces."

These canyons don't yield their beauty easily - especially in late June and the home of the Anasazi is seldom hospitable. Discovery is never easy - any kind of discovery.

Correction! I had read that Lavender Canyon was named for David Lavender, but according to a much better source, David G. Lavender (the writers grandson), Lavender Canyon is named for Ed Lavender (David Lavender's step-father). Apparently, Ed used to drive cattle he bought from Ed Scorup ( the then owner of the Dugout Ranch on Indian Creek now just outside Canyonlands National Park). See page 328 of the new edition of "One Man's West". Anyway, I'll keep the post - surely Ed would approve of his son's fame.