Newspaper Boat

A table I made way long ago, a lifetime of lifetimes ago.  I remember it had to be finished right before Thanksgiving, the year though is but a guess at the point.  My guess...1989.  Ok, could've been 90 or 91.
I smoothed everything with a Japanese smoothing plane, the surfaces have the most sensual slightly scalloped feel to them from the cutting of the iron.
So it's got 26 years or so of patina on it.
The patina that comes from living, loving and fighting.  The patina from kids spilling on it, doing homework on it.  The patina from breakfasts, lunches and dinners.  I didn't think I would become emotional but this is causing some tears to fall.
The patina that comes from moving it from one house to another.  From one side of bay to the other side and back and back to the other.
The table eventually went from a home to my studio to be alongside another similar table I had built a year before.
And it then started the patina earned from big dinner parties to huge BBQ's to mega-parties.  Big character marks on the table from those years.

But I certainly don't need/want two tables.

Taylor and Nick bought their first home....in Sausalito.  I offered the table and she accepted but it was too big.  Let's cut out a couple feet it was decided.

When I joined the two halves back together I chose to chamfer the edges so if when glued up the two planes don't meet exactly I wouldn't have to plane down the faces.  The chamfer allows for a slight mismatch.
To plane would be to take off the patina.

 The chamfered joint and wax.

They came over to get it yesterday.  Along with most of the chairs that Taylor sat on around the table as she grew up...ok, more tears...

Three little tastes of a nice smokey mezcal and they're gone.

You know you build these things and like a newspaper boat you put it in the water hoping it makes it to the other shore.  You hope what you build lasts as long as it can.  50 years?  A hundred would be cool.  But who knows.  Maybe a fire, maybe tastes change and it ends up the in landfill.  Maybe the newspaper boat lasts and lasts and my great great great great great people will be adding their own patina to something they have no idea where it came from.

And the tears come again seeing it in it's new space.