Full Freight

 The Art Is the Doing of the Art.

I'm not stating nothing new with that the art is the doing of the art.

I just think the thing at the end of what you're doing or making, that thing is what comes out of the process as a whole.  You can't separate the thing from the doing of the thing.

The above.  How I left it from the night before.  I did four things.  Looked at the wood, drank some luscious California whiskey from Ukiah, listened to music and sketched and water colored ideas for the Central Cali Winery Tasting Experience Table.

I'm thinking I'll give them all my sketches and water colors, they will be as much a part of the table as the table itself.

And of note to Nick here, that short lighter board in the middle of the above photo could become another kitchen light!!!!

Where and orientation of the kitchen wood gets decided and moved across the room to make it easier to see what's left.

As is my usual, the first cut is by hand.  I want to preserve the curve of the grain when I join them so cut the curve with the frame saw.  It's on the triangle or it was going fall down for the photo.  And vertical because I could!

Did some work on the 'possible' feet for the cabinet.  I followed all the best practices on this but they came out wonky.  I was supposed to drill dead center in the round steel and tap them for the bolts to go in.  Let's just say, some were dead center, some were not.

 

And because of that, I had to number them and match them to their base.

Vacuum Sled 2

In 1995 I bought a band saw, it arrived with a VHS tape of the owner of the company, Torbin Helshoj, demonstrating the band saw.  On it he was slicing near paper thin re-saws from a 12" high piece of wood.  With a low fence.  The thing was he was slicing off a 12"X12" piece of wood.  That got me thinking about that.  The width and height led to stability and vibration damping from the large cross section and weight

If I were doing tall re-saws I started to glue or tape or screw them to a big chunk of wood to keep in that theory of cross section and weight for success.

Wasn't long after I built a sled so I could attach to that. And decided that I would vacuum to suck the wood on saving glue or tape or screws.  Failed.  Just didn't work.

Fast forward to five years ago when in moving that 1995 bandsaw, it fell off the dolly and smacked itself pretty good on the concrete.  Try as I might, I just couldn't get the blade to track well.  I fought and fought that thing for 14 rounds until I went back to my corner at the end of the round and said, "Paul, buy a new saw."

I did.  And I said, "Paul, let's try that vacuum sled idea again."

Saw came on Friday, the blades didn't arrive until Tuesday.  

The bell sounded for round 15, and at the end I came out a winner.

Vacuum Sled 2 backside with pump.

Cut like a champ.  The vacuum held the wood on there like a Mo'Fu.

Even with a low texture light, smooth as a Tyson uppercut (in his prime).

 

 

 

 

 

You see, what I'm looking for is not the thing but how that thing got made.  How each success and each set back and each revelation and every music note listened during a swipe of a hand plane becomes that thing.

It's the glue that holds everything together.

 

Since

 These were going to become orphan photos so I'll just do a tiny update.

Since I bought a couple boards too few last time, I journeyed up to the sawmill yesterday to pick through the pile some more.

That's my pile in the middle and short boards standing up are the go pile, the no pile is on the right, difficult for you to see.

The man in the dark clothing on the left circles me a couple times and says,

"That's the Japanese Pagoda Wood, right?"

I nod.

"I was the one that cut that, what, must have been twenty years ago."

 I say, "It says ten years ago."

 "I guess that sounds about right.  I remember I didn't even know it was an Elm until I was halfway through."

And this 16" three toed The Porter jointer appeared.  I've never seen that before here.

The grain and the scallops of his bandsaw blade.

"Even when your heart gets broken...."

 Cynthia emails me.  Jeff is cc'd on the email.  I'm going to get the build on the big table for the re-modeled tasting room experience for a Central CA winery.  It's two posts below this or go here.

I teared up.  I wrote her to back to tell her.  It meant a lot to me.

I also said that immediately after her email, I get up to sweep the dojo.  Told her that as well.

After each and every time on the mat in Aikido, you get off and sweep up.  It's part of training.  As much can be learned from sweeping as can be learned from doing Irimi Nage.  It's all training and such can not separated.

 

I've been tinkering away on the other project.  Kitchen cabinets.  There I said it.  Kitchen cabinets. 

Been making the skeleton for them.  Some of the drawers out of hard maple, dovetailed on the WoodRat. The square on top are possible legs for the cabinets.  I just don't want to do a kick for them.  Kicks have never sat psychologically with me, I always feel impeded standing in front of cabinets with a kick on them.  So I'm doing legs.  Whether they are these I'm not sure yet.

Yesterday, early, I drive up to pick out some wood for the cabinets.  I'm sweeping the Dojo the whole way. Driving real slow, stopping when I want just to inhale what's around me.

Fence posts along the way.

Bonus middle pics!!

Lately the sun has been rising exactly perpendicular to the front of the studio.

 Foot, hot tub steam, sun.  The big three.

Stopped here for the moss and found something that washes something that no longer washes anything.

Evan and I had spoken about design wants and wishes so he's already pulled out a couple different options for me outside.  We walk up to the hill together and he shows me the first pile.  I immediately say I'll take this.  We don't talk price about nothing.  He calls it Japanese Pagoda Wood.  Tells me the story of it coming from a perfect convergence of water, sun and soil in Central California.  It had five branches that each of them were bigger than the trunks of ordinary Japanese Pagodas.  A super Elm he says.

The whole morning has been spent in the mist.  It was wet when I left Oakland,  foggy up here as well.

I haven't sketched much on this because there's not much to sketch if you don't know nothing about nothing but I open up the sketch book anyway just to implant something.

Going through the stack.

I was told the nomenclature once on this, 

JPW.  Japanese Pagoda Wood

100809  It was cut in 2010,  in August on the ninth day.

.1.1  This was the first log cut on that day and this is the first cut of a sequence of cuts. 

so .1.2 would be the board directly next to number one.

I had been picking through the pile for awhile now.  The clouds had come down to earth as much as they could.  The landscape around looked like shapes drawn from charcoal of a cold fire.  The sharp edges of the strokes smudged with the ashes.  It felt like a million miles from anybody and Evan walks up to see how I'm doing.

I pointed to yes pile of what I wanted and the no pile of what could be put back.  Still no price had been talked about.

He said he would write me up and I told him I would load up and see him down at the office.

With the gray, with the water in the air, with muted landscape and the feeling of isolation I asked Evan if he was impacted by the larger world and enormity of it all.

"Of course I am Paul."

We start to walk down the hill toward my car and his office and he says,

"Even when your heart gets broken,

you still have to go to work."

 

I load up, go down to the office and he hands me the paper with the price.

I was expecting something different.

"It's going to a good home"  

I was thinking 3-4 more times than what I paid.

 

 

 

Edit.  

Someone wrote me and said,

" Translate 'Sweeping the Dojo' "

 

 

MU