Monday, September 15, 2014


After making the last table, I really wanted to make one for my kitchen.
 As much as I loved the last one, it was just too heavy to lug to a second floor.
The wood for the top was taken from the demo of an auto parts store that opened up in 1940.
 Once I cleaned the grease and dirt off, it revealed this really funky green paint. I liked the green, it was sort of a time stamp for that era, but there isn't anything green in my house except for a few plants that will be dead shortly. I sanded the green off, but I did manage to keep little hints of it's existence
 I don't think that I've ever built something solely for myself. There have been times when I've completed a piece and been like "yeah, I'm keeping this.", so going into this table with it's selfish intent was a little strange.
 I built it around these ultra modern bent walnut chairs that were given to me a while back, but while thinking about the build, I started to look at vintage industrial chairs.
 I love industrial seating from the 40's, but they are expensive, and rightly so. Couldn't I just build them myself? Of course I could, but the amount of work that goes into making one (or 4) doesn't really pay off.
 In the amount of time that it would take to build them, I could build 4 other pieces that would generate the capital to buy some vintage ones and still have some cash to stash.
 I like the idea of blending something vintage with something that came from my hand to complete the picture.
 While building this table, I kept thinking about the 1940's and my obsession with it.
I don't even know that much about the 1940's historically, but what I do know is that it was a time when building and crafting was in full swing. There was a pride in the worker that intrigues me.
 Even the way they dressed when they went to work, it exuded a pride in their work and a sense of self. These days, in my line of work, guys put on their shittiest clothes to go to work. Just walk through Home Depot at 7am and you'd think they were handing out hot meals for the homeless, but look at a photo of a factory worker from 1940 and he looks like James Dean.
 Wouldn't you, as a home owner, prefer someone working in your home that doesn't look like someone who just stumbled in from a bar just a few short hours ago?
 I think I'm connected to that era because I believe in that sense of self and the pride that one puts into their work.
 Over the years the consumer became more interested in getting things done quickly and cheaply, and was willing to sacrifice quality. How in the fuck did THAT happen?
 What kind of jedi mind trick took place that informed the masses that cheap half assed work was "good enough".
 I used to sell out. I would give a customer a price, they would knock me down, and I would eat a shit sandwich, but over the last few years, I have figured out that the people that utilize that tactic, aren't the people I want to work for anyway.
 I'm a threat to the average consumer now because I know my worth, and I'm an asset to the clientele that WANT quality work.
 Whenever I hear someones sad story about how the world has had it's way with them, my response is "everyone cuts their own deal in life." That statement is slightly debatable, because there are some uncontrollable circumstances that can really put someones life in the crapper, like...having your legs eaten by a shark, or Cancer, or some other brutal act of nature. For the most part though, peoples lives are messed up because they made bad decisions.
 Once you know your worth, the bad decision making becomes a thing to look back at and chuckle about. It's true. I wouldn't write about it if I didn't live it at some point.
 So, know your worth, go make some shit, hug your kids, and dominate the week.

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