500.
This one makes five hundred posts published. A decent and reasonable accomplishment. With almost ten years of keyboard tapping that sets me right around a post a week. A far cry from what I put up these days and a testament to my enthusiasm towards the beginning when everything I had to write and say seemed new.
Thank you for hanging out with me through ups and downs.
***
Six years ago (5 years 11 months) I wrote a blog post after finishing my Anarchist Tool Chest. I listed my project plans for the future. I called it the Bucket List. (You can find it HERE) I never finished the spice chest I had started with that post. The design got all jammed up on that one, and unsurprisingly the list is overwhelmed with 17th century furniture. I was so lost in that sea of dreaming I could hardly see the shore.
A few years ago, in the first chapter of Chris Schwarz's "Anarchist Design Book" he argued about why an average guy shouldn't want to build the furnishings that belonged to his jailer's. The crust of people trying to keep him a content and mindless drone, equal parts labor unit and consumer. Renting the shovel I dig with from the company store. The concept was a slap in my face. I've started a couple dozen blog posts railing against that stance because at first I read that I shouldn't reach to achieve what they had. That the doctors I worked for somehow "deserved" those fancy marquetry pieced cabriole legged wonders and I didn't. The concept raged in me and made me want to grab a Guy Fawkes mask and start fires.
The Bucket List I had created was filled with these pieces. I had watched Tommy Mac's videos building a massive Bombe Secretary and tried to figure out how I could build this thing my way. I had wrapped myself up in this Period Furniture Identity never once thinking about where we would place such a monstrosity in our own home or who would pay the kings ransom to buy it without having commissioned it first.
"I would purchase it but Bunny is so partial to Arabian Blond Mahogany. She'd just die. It's too bad you chose to build it from that dark old walnut my boy."
I started to shift. I started to pay attention to different things about furniture. I started to realize those doctors and captains of industry don't really care about those high end pieces the maid's have to dust once a week. The highboy comes with the house and the car so to speak. It's part of the costume. There are exceptions but for the most part. . .
I started to think more and more about furniture as a piece of the puzzle, David Mathias's book "Greene and Greene Furniture, Poems of Wood and Light" really illustrated to me how a piece of furniture designed for specific placement inside a specific architecture could sing out a resounding and clear note. I started to look around and try and figure out what fit into my life. What fit into my house. How I could build the furniture I needed over the pieces I lusted after. Lust is empty over the long term, substance has exist.
God dammit Chris was right again.
I started to lean away from building pieces I saw in museums and lean into my own thoughts and designs. I don't think I want a 17th century joined chest any longer. It doesn't fit my house or my life. I've started to develop my own style, my own designs, my own crucible pot mixing my touches with period, vernacular and studio styles. Country with a touch of elegance and often a hidden bit of whimsy.
A decade (give or take 6 months) into taking woodworking seriously and I feel just as energized about my future prospects in the shop as I ever have. More so even. The ideas seem abundant. The work is achievable. I feel like I'm about to start a new adventure again. Like I'm discovering something. It's invigorating and frustrating and all the things.
Reason and Passion baby. I'm making the art I was meant to make.
Oldwolf
Thank you for hanging out with me through ups and downs.
***
Six years ago (5 years 11 months) I wrote a blog post after finishing my Anarchist Tool Chest. I listed my project plans for the future. I called it the Bucket List. (You can find it HERE) I never finished the spice chest I had started with that post. The design got all jammed up on that one, and unsurprisingly the list is overwhelmed with 17th century furniture. I was so lost in that sea of dreaming I could hardly see the shore.
A few years ago, in the first chapter of Chris Schwarz's "Anarchist Design Book" he argued about why an average guy shouldn't want to build the furnishings that belonged to his jailer's. The crust of people trying to keep him a content and mindless drone, equal parts labor unit and consumer. Renting the shovel I dig with from the company store. The concept was a slap in my face. I've started a couple dozen blog posts railing against that stance because at first I read that I shouldn't reach to achieve what they had. That the doctors I worked for somehow "deserved" those fancy marquetry pieced cabriole legged wonders and I didn't. The concept raged in me and made me want to grab a Guy Fawkes mask and start fires.
The Bucket List I had created was filled with these pieces. I had watched Tommy Mac's videos building a massive Bombe Secretary and tried to figure out how I could build this thing my way. I had wrapped myself up in this Period Furniture Identity never once thinking about where we would place such a monstrosity in our own home or who would pay the kings ransom to buy it without having commissioned it first.
"I would purchase it but Bunny is so partial to Arabian Blond Mahogany. She'd just die. It's too bad you chose to build it from that dark old walnut my boy."
I started to shift. I started to pay attention to different things about furniture. I started to realize those doctors and captains of industry don't really care about those high end pieces the maid's have to dust once a week. The highboy comes with the house and the car so to speak. It's part of the costume. There are exceptions but for the most part. . .
I started to think more and more about furniture as a piece of the puzzle, David Mathias's book "Greene and Greene Furniture, Poems of Wood and Light" really illustrated to me how a piece of furniture designed for specific placement inside a specific architecture could sing out a resounding and clear note. I started to look around and try and figure out what fit into my life. What fit into my house. How I could build the furniture I needed over the pieces I lusted after. Lust is empty over the long term, substance has exist.
God dammit Chris was right again.
I started to lean away from building pieces I saw in museums and lean into my own thoughts and designs. I don't think I want a 17th century joined chest any longer. It doesn't fit my house or my life. I've started to develop my own style, my own designs, my own crucible pot mixing my touches with period, vernacular and studio styles. Country with a touch of elegance and often a hidden bit of whimsy.
A decade (give or take 6 months) into taking woodworking seriously and I feel just as energized about my future prospects in the shop as I ever have. More so even. The ideas seem abundant. The work is achievable. I feel like I'm about to start a new adventure again. Like I'm discovering something. It's invigorating and frustrating and all the things.
Reason and Passion baby. I'm making the art I was meant to make.
Oldwolf
Well said sir. I am still tied into the 18th Century reenacting thing and that influences a lot of what I am doing and hope to do. I know you do medieval reenacting as well, but if you aren't locked into anything other than grinning like an idiot while making handy and useful items whilst developing and improving God given talents and skills, you will never find yourself so free. Enjoy, enjoy, and enjoy! And keep us up to date please.
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