Take away my crayons

Lots of photos in this one.

I decided I needed to make the hinges.  Used the angle steel that was left up in the rafters again.  Basically very large knife hinges.

Fitting them to the opening...well I tried to fit them.  More on that later.

After the jointing of the two pieces one last run through the big machine.

After being ravaged by the big machine I decide that it needs to cut to the final line by hand.
There's one big wrong in the crosscut photo.  David, you'll be able to pick it up.

And David, on the rip, I cracked the saw.  Damn, it was handmade too and the maker now is dead.





The wood gets attached to the hinges by threaded inserts and 3/8" bolts.  I took the shine off the new bolts and washers to fit with age of the hinge steel.

Handplaned the surface.  Just the barest of sliver coming through throat of the plane.

Grip, pull.  Repeat.

Backside ready to be picked up.

Up and In.

The square with the circle with the triangle on the other door.  Dictated by the city of Oakland.  There is one and only one room in the building and it's the restroom but we still need that sign on the door.

Chose to let the wood hold each other, the acceptance of one another through give and take.

Set in unfinished plaster, letting the corner bead show too.

I wanted the whole door to be flush with wall and still don't know how it happened but the bottom hinge got set in 1/4".  And so it shall be.  There's a 1/4" reveal.

Ok, so the handle.  I had the handle figured out in my head before I even thought about the door but now I'm not sure yet on it.  May have to go into the wilderness and fast until I have a power vision about it.

Right now to open the door you rotate your hand vertical.  With fingers on top of one another, you slide inside the slit.  You feel the walls of the crack as your hand slips in, curl your fingers just a bit and pull every so slightly.
Perfection really.  Functionally and metaphorically.


I heard this story one time of a kindergarten teacher whose pupils really excelled at their art.  When asked her secret why her students were so talented.
"You have to know when to take the crayons away."

So, I'm trying to listen to this.  Maybe to add to this will take something away.  Let it be.  Let it flow round and round.  Let the two pieces always be receptive to the intrusion of the hand to be opened.