So, Gramps wanted a table in his basement so his 6 grandchildren had a place to sit and stare at electronic devices while the world completely passed them by...no,no,no, I joke, he wanted a place where they could play games and shit while he was upstairs killing a bottle of Jameson, no,no,no, I joke again, but only about the Jameson.
We had to color match the table and stools to a shitty picture of his ceiling beams, and some fucking how...it was a perfect match.
The next is some hand bent stools with a upholstered leather seat.
We go months without making a sitting device and then bam...slammed with em'.
So the guy who is doing the upholstery is also a Midcentury Furniture dealer, he saw the 6 stools for grandpas table, and was like "damn, those are awesome, we should do the seats in Mongolian Sheepskin", and me and Zach are like "Mongolian Sheepskin...I mean, what the fuck else would you possibly do them in"...neither of us have a fucking clue what Mongolian Sheepskin is or how it differs from any other sheepskin on the planet, but the suggestion is coming from a guy who ships out $15,000 chairs on the daily, so I assume Mongolian Sheepskin is Thee Sheet.
The shop had gotten to a point where it was almost impossible to work in.
For the last week, we would nibble on projects, but most of the time was dedicated to putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.
I don't know if you can judge from the blog or Instagram feed, but we work at a pace that is unprecedented, so the shop tends to get away from us.
Yeah, we'd all like our shop to look like that Norm Abrhams guys shop, where everything is in it's place and there isn't a spec of dust anywhere, but we couldn't be on more of the opposite end of that spectrum.
It's not because we're a couple of dirty motherfuckers, it's passion.
When you get wrapped up in the build, you give zero fucks about putting clamps away or the chisel back in the box.
Passion...what a powerful fucking quality.
If you ever get to just shootin' the shit with someone and the conversation gives itself to that question.."so, what's your passion? What drives you?", you'll notice a lot of head scratchin' and "uh's" out of most people. When you ask that question to someone that has a true passion for something, buckle up motherfucker because you are about to get a ear full.
It could be cooking, building, painting, whatever...but someone with a true love of their craft is going to take your ass to school on it, so listen up and take notes.
Not everyone has a passion either.
Some folks are just content with existing as they are, and that's cool too...I don't fucking get it, but I respect it.
How one can live without that one thing that gets your blood pumping, that's yours, that makes you feel as if you have the ultimate command over something, is beyond me.
There's a difference between "passion" and "past time".
Here's one that's gonna get me some "fuck yous"...Motorcycles.
Building them, fixing them, customizing them...Passion
Riding them...Past time.Passion is to create...something.
Hoping on a motorcycle with all your motorcycle gear, getting the wind in you face, at one with the road, the earth passing you by in all it's beauty...man, it's a awesome feeling, but it's not passion.
Racing motorcycles, or collecting them, or restoring them...all passion.
So, that's a little lesson on passion, ya have it or ya don't.
There's not a greater feeling then being consumed by a great passion, and that's the point I'm trying to get across, OR...I just came up with a real wordy excuse for a messy workshop.