The first in a series of coffee tables, a lozenge-shaped slab, 30″ x 72″ x 16.5″ high

I’ve begun making a series of coffee tables, encouraged by a recent commission from my brother in law to make one for my sister’s 50th birthday later this month. It’s always easier to make things in small multiples, with variation in material, proportion and construction style. I had honestly never given much thought to the idea of a coffee table, but am discovering that it’s the perfect form to experiment with some new ideas. I also like that the coffee table is inherently casual, functioning as a site for dining, reading, writing, as a footrest and even as seating. Plus, I have a stockpile of wood I’ve been saving that is ideally suited to the task.

The first table to come off the bench is for our own use, a lozenge-shaped monster I cut from a solid slab of locally-milled Monterey cypress, three inches thick. The table has bent wire legs I salvaged from a 1950’s era production table that I plan to tool up to replicate in my shop. To me, the table bridges a Southern Californian ethos of casual modernism with a North Californian ethos of forest stewardship and artisanry.

I like the ordinariness of the grain pattern; you can feel the girth of the tree

I like any piece of furniture to have a stance, an attitude

Tagged: aesthetics, coffee table, deep craft, furniture design, scott Constable, sonoma coast, woodworking, wowhaus

Each fall I sweep the dry duff off of our funky barn roof before the Dampness ensues

One of my September rituals has been clearing the corrugated roof of our funky back barn. The rambling, open-air structure is an explosion of three dissimilar building concepts, fused together with the oddball valleys and warped pitches of an under-planned roofline, one that collects piles of fallen duff of the redwood trees overhead each year. Though it’s a bit of an eyesore to most sensibilities, the building is structurally sound, and I’ve enjoyed studying it over the years whenever I clear the roof during the dry season, thinking about how best to put the barn to good use before the Dampness ensues until the next spring. I’ve learned to appreciate the improvised mess of its design with the same happy reluctance I reserve for the work of Frank Gehry.

The barn’s deceptively vast interior spaces are multi-functional and well-suited to our needs: a portion of the building is where I store paints and hardware, metal-working tools and surplus gear; a portion houses one of our wells; a portion we use as an annex to our sculpture studio; a portion is to store large equipment, a boat and other materials. Over the summer I’ve been trying to clear space inside to better support the increasing scope of our wowhaus projects. We recently sold our broken down McCormick-Deering tractor, which got me thinking about using the barn as a drying shed for the wood I’m about to have milled from our land. In conjunction with my new woodshop and a related body of work I have in development, I plan to source and mill more of my own logs, and have just enough room in the barn to air-dry a few thousand board feet. This spring I plan to build a solar kiln for a final kiss of dry heat.

Taking a break from the work, I lie on my back on the roof and stare up into the redwoods

Tagged: california flora, coast redwood, deep craft, vernacular architecture, woodworking, wowhaus

Front and back of my last box of Blue Band Velevet #5572

As a daily comfort I prefer quality, vintage pencils, which I use in the course of drawing, writing and working with wood. I’m in a bit of a panic, down to my last box of Blue Band Velvets, manufactured by the American Lead Pencil Company in the 1920’s, that I inherited from my grandfathers (not sure which one), along with some drafting tools and hand planes of the same vintage. Luckily, I’ve discovered Bob Truvy’s website dedicated to the historic archive of pencils from around the world. Unfortunately, his collection is not for sale, so I plan to continue my search, knowing that contemporary pencil manufacture is not up to snuff. I’m even considering making my own as we prepare to fell a pair of incense cedar trunks on our property, the best wood for making high quality pencils.

our twin trunk incense cedar, limmed and ready to be felled

Tagged: aesthetics, bob truby, deep craft, furniture design, green woodworking, pencils, woodworking

Freshly harvested kelp drying on the garden fence

For a while after the recent tsunami in Japan, Californians were aflutter about iodine, the primary antidote to radiation exposure. In researching sources of the element I discovered that the Japanese consume about five times more than most of the rest of the world, largely because seaweed and fresh fish figure so prominently in their daily diet. Interestingly, there is a strong correlation between the Japanese consumption of iodine with both their decreased rates of cancer and increased lifespan. I also learned that the production of the chemical element, iodine, was a cottage industry in Ireland and other coastal regions in the nineteenth century, where kelp was prevalent and abundant throughout the year.

Because our local beaches yield heaps of kelp, I’ve experimented over the past few years with using it as a material for making things, with varying degrees of success. I’m now more interested in kelp as a food source, and have been foraging the flat strands and drying them in the sun for cooking. Eventually, I’d like to make a batch of pure iodine as an experiment, perhaps as a way of staining/preserving wood. Historically, iodine has be extracted from kelp by reducing it to ash, boiling and filtering the ashes, and extracting the pure element by mixing it with hydrogen peroxide.

Tagged: appropriate technology, deep craft, iodine, kelp, tsunami

It’s been a bumper year for wild plums, and our few trees, bent to capacity with ripe fruit, have been feeding the birds, raccoons and a solitary bobcat, who harvests from our rooftop at night. We’re eating our share as well, and Ene has already prepared a few gallons of ‘plum brandy’ that should be ready for Christmas.

On or way to the beach we pass the Pozzi Ranch, some of Straus Creamery’s grazing meadows, and several smaller family farms, all of who have been cutting hay over the past few weeks. Just as the grasses turn gold, they’re cut into rows where they sit for a week or so before being baled. I love the haphazard architecture of the bales as they cure before being collected and loaded into barns. The ride to the beach smells of sweet cut grass drying in the sun.

Salmon Creek and the Russian River are still feeding the Pacific at high tides, so the surrounding beaches are loaded with driftwood. This year I’ve discovered some surprisingly sophisticated structures built of driftwood. I’m not sure if it’s due to an abundance of good material after later than usual rains, or to an increase in leisure and anxiety given the current joblessness crisis.

Tagged: aesthetics, california coast, deep craft, phenology, pozzi ranch, slow food, sonoma coast, straus creamery, wowhaus

I typically paint or wax the ends of green logs/slabs to ensure a slow and even curing.

I’ve begun to harvest some of the holly trees on our property in anticipation of making small bowls, spoons, candlesticks and other tableware for our inaugural Secret Dinner scheduled for this fall. The trees were probably planted about 30 years ago as an ornamental and they’ve grown to an unmanageable height, blocking light and clogging our gutters with their spiny fallen leaves. We’ll continue to make winter wreaths from branches of the remaining variegated shrubs, but I’m eager to try my hand at turning, break in an excellent set of Sheffield chisels and learn a valuable new skill.

In Celtic folklore, the holly tree symbolizes protection, and it’s an ancient tradition to plant them close to dwellings to ward off evil spirits while providing food and shelter for seasonal bird migrations. A healing tea can be brewed from the leaves of certain holly trees, and it was believed that throwing a stick of holly towards bears, wolves and wildcats will ward them away. The tree has also been thought to protect people from threat of lightning and severe weather. I will consider these themes as I turn the wood over the summer for an autumnal feast featuring foraged foods from the sea.

Tagged: california flora, deep craft, green woodworking, scott Constable, slow food, sonoma coast, sustainability, traditional craft, woodworking

Model of Tsuru, commissioned for the new Ralph M Carr Judicial Center in Denver

We’re celebrating at the wowhaus studio after winning the public art commission for the courtyard of the new Ralph M Carr Colorado Judicial Center in Denver. We worked especially hard for this one, and the concept and presentation evolved collaboratively through a process Ene and I have honed over years of trial and error. We’re especially excited about the prospect of making another monumental sculpture to be cast in bronze and integrated into the landscape, where it will be accessible to the public and contribute to the daily lives of the people who work in the building.

Tsuru features a slightly larger than life bronze inspired by the Whooping Crane

Here is the text Ene wrote to accompany our presentation:

TSURU

“Conscience is the chamber of justice” – Origen

This artwork takes its inspiration from the crane, an ancient symbol of justice, peace, independence, and wisdom in many cultures. Among some Native Americans, this majestic bird was revered as an emblem of justice and intelligence.  For the Japanese, the crane (“tsuru”)  became a symbol of world peace in World War II as a Japanese girl tried to stave off leukemia caused by the bombing of Hiroshima by making 1,000 paper cranes. Sandhill cranes play a role in the local ecosystem, migrating annually through the Denver environs; many eagerly anticipate their seasonal arrival.

The crane embodies the independence and moral courage Ralph Carr brought to bear in resisting the internment of the Japanese during World War II.  The sculpture depicts a crane in flight, wings outstretched in a delicate state of balance, the stance echoing our quest for balance and equilibrium in the pursuit of justice.  Finally, the sculpture has additional symbolism: the Whooping Crane, the only other crane in North America, is an endangered species, protected by the laws of the land. In this way, the artwork embodies the vital role that the legal system plays in protecting not only our citizens but the fragile ecosystems of our earth as well.

The focal point of the courtyard will be a bronze sculpture of a Whooping Crane rising in flight. This graceful form, feathered wings outstretched to a span of 8’, will be sited on a rise of native Bluestem grasses toward the rear of the lawn, with a total height of 8’.

The sculpture will be framed by a circle of granite stone elements radiating in a 4’ wide ring around the piece.  Each of the cardinal points of the compass will be etched into the stone, orienting the viewer to their place in the landscape, just as the law orients and guides those seeking justice.  The granite used to create this feature was reclaimed from the Justice Center Building that was demolished to make way for the new building.  The artful repurposing of this material embodies an ethos of environmental responsibility; it also links the artwork aesthetically to the pavements surrounding the space, which is created from the same granite. Etched in the stone will be the phrase  “Conscience is the chamber of justice.”,  a quotation from the ancient Greek Origen.

Flanking the sculpture will be a series of four elegant sculptural granite benches, also cut from the repurposed granite, laminated to form a solid mass of stone.  Measuring  30”l x 18” h x 16” deep, these curved seating elements, which provide a place for respite and reflection,  echo the abstract form of a crane with wings outstretched.

Tagged: contemporary art, public art, Ralph M Carr Colorado Judicial Center, scott Constable, sculpture, wowhaus