Another table, another pile of wood.
I remember the storm. The thunder was so loud, I almost fell out of bed (the couch I fell asleep on). The house was so old, the walls so thin. I thought someone was breaking in to my apartment, trying to steal all my stuff (the trash and coffee cups that the lightning illuminated all over my living room floor). The next morning, I woke up to find this dramatic video on my alma mater’s Twitter feed:
My first solo, large table is out in the wilds of San Francisco. Little Window by Bicycle Banh Mi was looking for a new counter for their outdoor space. The eventual goal is to make the space feel like “being in a cute Japanese sandwich shop.” So it was maple, all the way. After working for Jeff Soderbergh, the prospect of gluing up 8 foot long 8/4 boards by myself was remarkably un-daunting. (I know that’s not a word, Dad.) My small,…
Maybe I should have paid more attention in that lecture when Ron said it was the only wood he was allergic to. Maybe I should have done a little bit of research before I bought it. Maybe I should have noticed all those websites that list it as an irritant that causes nausea, headaches, and has nervous system effects. Maybe thats why all of that 8/4 makore was on sale.
Week something at Rosewood, the flat faced cabinet. I had the genius idea to make it out of maple with a stand out contrasting wenge door. Because wenge is fun to say and the curly stuff is on sale. Perfect plan.