Sunday, August 13, 2017

LETS START A WAR.



Before I get into these new builds, I have to air out something that has been bothering me....
 Why in the fuck are the news outlets throwing out the phrase "NUCLEAR WAR" like they're talking about a new APP that makes you look like a chicken or some other barnyard animal?
 I don't know how any of you grew up, but "NUCLEAR WAR" wasn't a phrase that was thrown around lightly.
 Here's the thing...I have a 7 year old boy. This 7 year old child of mine is convinced we're going to die from a tornado every time it fucking drizzles, so when he's flipping through channels and these news stations are spitting out "NUCLEAR WAR" left and fuckin' right, I get the pleasure of explaining what exactly nuclear war is.
 "Well Max, you see, a lot of countries have these bombs. When these bombs fall from the sky and hit the earth...they vaporize, and by "vaporize", I mean they fucking kill every living thing within a 7 to 21 mile radius per bomb, fuckin' crazy shit, right?...Let's go get yogurt."
 There are 2 subjects that a population should not be desensitized to.
1. NUCLEAR FUCKING WAR
2.Heroin
 I was at the gym this morning. They have Televisions everywhere (why? I don't know), 17 times on 17 different televisions I saw the phrase "nuclear war"...that number is only when I actually started to count.
 Local or global annihilation isn't something that you just throw around.
Yes...Our president is getting his ass handed to him in the polls, and we all know that nothing brings those numbers up like a good ol' fucking war.
 Mr. President, I don't know if anyone has informed you, but, you have job security for the next 3 plus years, unless you do something even more ridiculously fucked up then all the other ridiculously fucked up shit you do on a daily basis, you Twitter Critter.
 So, don't mind the poll numbers, you're a one and done president anyway.
"Make America Great"....waiting....still waiting.
 Americans...there are a lot of Americans that are great. You Mr. President...ya need some work.
Is Kim Jong a fucking cuckoo bird? You are goddamn right he is. Crazy people speak of nuclear war, not civilized rational political leaders.
 "FIRE AND FURY"....Brilliant war slogan. I'm in "SHOCK AND AWE" over how great that slogan is.
 I'm not Trump bashing cause people get so fucking sensitive. I'm nuclear war propaganda bashing.
Put me in a room with both of these assholes so I can break down nuclear war for them. I don't even need to do any fact checking, I'm just going to revert back to my 6th grade enlightenment.
"Mr.Preident...Fat weird Korean guy...In the event of nuclear war everything dies. Everything. See that fruit fly...dead. Babies...dead. Birds...dead. Anything that can be classified as "alive"...dead. Everything. Your momma...dead. The lady that fixes your wig...dead. Dead, dead, fucking dead.
 So, you two mother fuckers might wanna figure some shit out.
Kim...you go on starving your people and pretending that you're globally relevant, and Mr. President, you go on making your rich friends richer, and we the people will go on navigating your bullshit and being content with teeny tiny bits of pleasure being sprinkled on us every now and then."
 Watching this shit unfold is the equivalent of watching two drunk assholes arguing in a bar, except these 2 drunk assholes have nuclear weapons in their trunks out in the parking lot.
Ok, I'm done.
 French Country...not out style, but it was damn sure fun building outside of our comfort zone.
When you become so accustomed to building the foundations of your pieces with steel, and then revert back to wood, it felt really weird.
 Everything has it's place and position. When a piece calls for a particular style, you have to be able to answer the call.
 The last piece, which called us back to our roots is a 9' long bar table.
I really hope we don't slip into a nuclear winter, because there are so many new and interesting projects coming in, and it's hard to hit deadlines when you've been vaporized.

Monday, July 31, 2017

DYING AT SEA


Two projects out the door.
 First one is a stereo cabinet with speaker stands.
There was a very unique process used for the side panels. There is a deep texture to the wood created by sanding down the light grain to create a valley in the wood.
 When I say sanding, I mean 3 to 4 hours per panel of sanding and shaping.
Did the customer request that??? No they did not. You do what the piece dictates sometimes, even if it's at an expense to us. In this case the expense was time, and time is more valuable than money.
 The next piece is a bar cabinet for a really cool programmer who lives in the Wicker Park/Bucktown area in Chicago.
 Sometimes you meet customers that make you want to blow their fuckin' minds. We walked away from our field measure saying "yeah, we're gonna kill it for this motherfucker".
 That's the fun part of our job.
Giving people more than they expect.
 Take our leash off, watch us run, you won't be disappointed.
Even though things have been hectic and stressful, you embrace the chaos and let the chaos lead you.
 That's the trick.
It's like being caught in a rip current. If you fight it and try to swim straight in, you're gonna fuckin' die, but if you swim with it, and cheat your way towards shore, you're gonna have a kick ass story about how you almost fuckin died at sea.
 It's never the piece or the work involved that creates the stress, it's peoples time frame.
Everyone is in a big fuckin hurry for a inanimate object.
 Bars, Restaurants...I get it. The doors gotta open, ya gotta recoup that money, The schedules are break neck, for every trade involved.
 We're adapting to the pace, we're learning to navigate the clock.
I blame Amazon for our society's "need it now" mentality.
 I remember ordering something on Amazon, and if I ordered in the next 4 hours and 52 minutes...I could get it TODAY. What?
 That's great and all, but it is grooming our society for instant gratification, and people are having a harder time coping with having to wait for something.
 If you were searching for a "mate", do you really want to fuck on the first date, or do you wanna hold hands, revel in that first kiss goodnight, wait a couple days before you see them again, maybe spend a little more time making out, palm the booty, send em off anticipating 2nd. base....finally working up to that moment ya'll get it on.
 Maybe it doesn't even work that way anymore, because now there are websites you can join where people can just fuck each other.
 I'm a caveman. My mind is still blown that I can "track a package". I don't even track my packages anymore cause I get high off of the anticipation.
 I recently had a killer wallet made from BWEISS LEATHER (check him out on etsy and instagram).
We communicated back and forth about my custom wallet. Once I got a feel for where his head and his heart was at, I chucked all my design ideas out the window and was like "bro, do your thang, have fun with it."
 I didn't want to know anything about it, or the process, or how long it would take. I wanted the artist to take his time and create something HE was proud of.
 An artist is most critical of their own work, so in my mind, if this motherfucker is happy with what he created, then I will not be disappointed...and I damn sure wasn't.
 The moral of the story is...be patient.
Life moves fast enough as it is.
 There's very little gratification in instant gratification.
No Amazon...I do NOT want it today.

Monday, July 17, 2017

YOU WANTED THE BEST...YOU GOT THE BEST





TAVERN 57 (formerly The Wrightwood Tap) is done.
  I'm not a sports guy, but oddly enough, I'm a math guy.
While Tavern 57 isn't necessarily a sports bar, the owner explained to us that the 57 came from two of Chicago's greatest sports figures...Walter Payton and Michael Jordan, number 34 and 23...34+23=57.
 That was explained to us after loading in a 300lb. solid steel DJ booth. That little tidbit of mathematical information helped take the edge off the fact that I was pretty sure I left my spinal cord on Wrightwood ave after squeezing that beast through the door.
 The owners aesthetic, the location, the theme of the establishment, and our aesthetic, all formed a type of mathematical equation that equated into a very warm, slick tavern with just enough edge to lure in a diverse clientele.
 It was some of the most brutally paced work that we have done to date, but a lot of fun in the fury of the build.
 Walk into a custom shop to get a table made...your lead time is always 6 to 8 weeks, in high season you can jack that lead time to 12 to 14 weeks. In this case...32 line items in 45 days.
 If you're in Chicago, check out Tavern 57.
To celebrate the completion of that project, I took Friday off and that evening took my 7 year old to see KISS.
 He's loved KISS since he was about 2. I have fond memories of him performing "Back in the New York groove" in nothing but a diaper, and a little guitar, in the kitchen.
 He's been to hardcore/punk shows before, but this was the first big budget rock show for him.
When we got to the venue, Megadeath had just started and he got as big of a yawn outta that as I did.
 We headed to the food area and got some second rate dinner just as Mashuggah was going on.
We scarffed down our food, headed to stage, I threw him up on my shoulderes so he could see the band. While he was up on my shoulders, he's tiny hands were dangling at my face where I could see he was trying to adjust his fingers into a proper metal devil horns position. With a little guidance, the proper devil horns were positioned and that was the last I saw of those tiny hands.
 All while this child was on my shoulders, sweaty metal heads where "high 5ing" my boy and giving me nods of metal approval.
 As the sun went down, we made our way back to the main stage where Rob Zombie prepared my son for what was to come.
 The lights, the rock cliche' banter, a giant robot on stage...I looked over at my boy and could literally see his little brain processing the performance.
 After Zombie, we had some time to kill before KISS, so decided to walk around and hunt for snacks.
My son had a new swagger.
 He wanted to walk ahead of me, and from behind he looked like a miniature Kirk Hammet from Metallica. As we navigated the crowd, he received more high 5ing, and devil horn exchanges.
 Within this sea of misfits, my boy felt welcomed and accepted.
When we first walked in the gates, he clenched my hand like he was hanging off of a cliff, but with 55000 poorly tattoo'd, stinky metal fans embracing his attendance... that grip loosened, then became non-existent.
 We made our way back to our seats and a massive KISS banner blocked the view of the entire stage.
The stadium lights went out. The announcement was about to come..."you wanted the best, you got the best, the hottest band in the world...KISS!
 BOOM! Banner drops, lights blind the crowd, explosions, devil horns up in the air...fuckin' KISS.
This 7 year old boy sitting next to me was no longer a 7 year old boy. He changed.
 As Kiss played on, a chill blew in, and this young man burrowed into me for warmth.
For a few hours we were 2 dudes at a rock show.
 As it grew cold and late, he became my 7 year old son who relied on me for comfort...until KISS burst into Rock-n-roll all night, and he stood up in his seat to sing along with his 55000 new friends.
 These little moments, they're woven together to create a thing called life.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

GET A KITTEN


45 days to flip a bar.
 Signs, bar tops, sinks, stair treads, concrete pads, tables, shelving, sign backers, FRP panels, and a slew of other pieces that I can't even remember.
 No staff, just 2 guys furiously building.
Do I enjoy the pace? Fuck no I do not...I'm old. I'm feeling my years over these last 6 weeks.
 We're in round 5 of a UFC title fight, battered and bloody, but we're ahead on the judges score cards.
Just when we're at that brink of collapse, we deliver more pieces and the owners are happy, and THAT is what fuels us for the next round.
 The next blog post will include the final product, but at this point, we haven't even had time to snap photos.
 A lot of things have happened over the last 6 weeks personally...my fathers failing health and my friends brain tumor took the front row, causing me to question my own mortality.
 We are at the whim of the universe. What that bitch says...goes.
Instead of pondering life and death, I chose to just live.
 By choosing to live, I mean really enjoying the moments that I have.
Reading in a hammock, night swims with the family, water balloon fights, ice cream on the stoop. Those little moments are the living part of life, you just have to see them for that.
It's so fuckin' easy to get caught up in your own bullshit, that you don't see these moments as significant, but here's a news flash...when they're gone...they're gone, and if you missed them because your head was elsewhere, the only one that loses, is you.
 I don't need a lot to make me happy. I'm a really simple man.
I catch a lot of shit because people assume that I don't give a fuck about anything, when the reality is that I do give a fuck, I just don't give a fuck about YOUR bullshit.
 Your boss is stupid...I don't give a fuck...you feel fat...I don't give a fuck...you're tired...I don't give a fuck.
 If you don't give a fuck about all your shitty situations enough to do something about them, then how can you remotely expect me to join your pity party.
 I'm 110% behind anyone trying to change something that they're not happy about. I'm 0% interested in anyone looking to just vent.
 Get a fuckin kitten, tell that pussy about all your problems.
The other day I was in the backyard and somebody decided to go on a rant for an hour plus about their work situation. I was sitting on a bench and literally fell asleep sitting up. Everyone noticed me sleeping except the person rambling on about their job. I didn't need to be part of that conversation, no one did.
 They'll go back to work Monday and guess what...it's still gonna suck. Nobody privy to all the information vomited out during that conversation is able to do anything about it.
 Am I an asshole?
No...I'm a realist.
 I believe that everyone is in control of their own lives and situations. I'm not capable of feigning interest. It's all empty.
 Someone backed into your car? That sucks, get it fixed...conversation over. We could spend the next hour talking about how you've been horribly wronged in such a situation, but l just don't care to.
 There's a very powerful photo I saw of a missionary pouring water into a starving African childs mouth...I want to print that photo, laminate it, and carry it with me, so when someone starts to tell me about their dining experience where the chicken was so fuckin' dry, I can pull it out and hold it to their face and say "real problems".
 You can very easily say "Brian...all you ever do is bitch on your blog"...yeah, yeah I do, but I don't make the 53,400 people read it every Monday, feel free to jump over to youtube and watch videos of monkeys jagging off.
 The real asshole isn't me. It's the ones that entertain the conversation and egg it on, but most likely give less of a fuck than I do. They're just waiting for their chance to chime in about their misery, and I personally don't care to exchange useless information about shitty situations.
 I've given enough advice that goes completely ignored to know better than to make suggestions.
In removing myself from these situations, I've discovered that it's much easier to deal with my problems and enjoy more of my life.
 If that makes me an asshole....Then I'm an asshole.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

A REALLY FUCKING SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT



At my age, friends don't come often or easily.
 Our bullshit threshold is very small and the ability to weed out those who are true and those who are not becomes very sharp.
 Dr. Andrew Carr is my friend.
He's a father, a husband, and a Chiropractor who despite the "herd" requirements of insurance companies and insurance networks who want you to spend 5 minutes with a patient, Andrew will spend as long as it takes to actually help a patient.
 What does that say about a man? It says a lot.
Andrew was recently diagnosed with a brain tumor.
 Not a slipped disc, or some old knee injury...a fucking brain tumor.
Andrew, like myself and so many others, does not have health insurance.
 Andrew, like myself, would rather sell his own fucking kidney on the black market, than ask for a dime from anyone.
 That is why one of his friends set up a GO FUND ME page.
You don't know Andrew. You don't have to know him. All you have to do is be a part of the human race. We HAVE to look out for each other. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY in politics remotely gives a flying fuck if you live or you die.
 You know what Obama care would've cost me for my family? $1460 per month. I can't imagine what Trumps will cost, and in all honesty, I can't possibly afford it. I do have life insurance for $500k for $53 a month, so it's cheaper for me to fucking die.
 Because Andrew won't beg, I'm going to beg for him because he needs to live. He needs to raise his kids, he needs to help those people in pain that he treats, he is essential to the human race.
There's a lot of human pieces of shit out there that I couldn't care less if they live or die, but there are those that bring something to the plate of humanity, and Andrew is bringing the fucking salad and we all want some fucking salad with our meal!
 $1 $5 $10...it's nothing to you. I just paid $7 for a fucking milkshake. It's not going to end your lavish lifestyle, but it's gonna help a good man stay on this fucking rock that we all inhabit.
 You pay tax on everything you buy, in fact, you pay tax on shit you don't buy, and you don't even think about it. You bitch about it now and then, but you go along with the hustle.
 Throw a couple bucks at something that can help save a mans life.
Please.
https://www.gofundme.com/donations-for-andrew-carr
 I can't even come up with words to talk about the stuff we made this week.
It's stuff...we made it...in the grand scheme of life it doesn't fucking matter.
 I'm really sorry. My friends situation, as horrible as it is, does deliver some perspective.
Love those around you as hard as you fucking can.
 It can all be snatched away in the blink of an eye.
It sucks a bag of dicks and it's not fair, but that's what life does, or at least what it tries to do.
 It threatens to steal hope.
It sneaks up on you and smashes you in the balls when you least expect it.
 Life is the equivalent of Bam Margera, that guy from Jackass that used to light fire crackers and throw em' on his dad while he was sleeping and shit.
 Hug your kids, disregard your enemies, and help those that you can along your journey through life.
If you blow all your fingers off this fourth of July, and you start a "GOFUNDME"...go fuck yourself dummy.




Monday, June 26, 2017

MULLET SCRATCHING



So this weekend we did our first vendor stint at Motoblot.
 It's a motorcycle show with bands, booze, bikes and everything that you would imagine a motorcycle show to be.
 Our presence there was par for the course in terms of who we are and what we represent.
Among vendors carrying t-shirts that say shit like "if you can read this, then the bitch fell off", and patches that say "certified asshole", along with the ones carrying made in China bolt on parts for your 30% made in America motorcycles...we definitely stuck out.
 "Cool shit man" was the phrase of the day, which was good for the ol' ego, but another common phrase was "so....what do you guys DO?"
 So, let me get this straight...you're standing in our booth, surrounded by all this cool handmade shit, and you're asking me what it is that we do?
 "We sell insurance fucko...the stupid phrase t-shirt vendor is across the street"
As much as I would stare blankly at these people while thinking "how are you so fucking dumb?", I also realized that maybe it wasn't such a dumb question.
 We're a Walmart society.
We're conditioned to accept the nicely packaged products that some blonde bitch on TV is telling us to buy.
 We're taught to go buy disposable shit that we don't need.
We're bred to not remotely give a fuck about quality, but be concerned with price.
 We're programmed to not acknowledge the hand that built the house.
So, you walk into our booth which smashes every one of those talking points, and you're left scratching your mullet, thinking to yourself "what the fuck is this", until it's actually vomited out of your mouth, to which I then have to come up with a smart ass response.
 It made me realize that the deck is stacked against us, which is fine because I don't play cards anyway.
All in All, the response was great and the people enjoyed something different.
 All right...picture explanation time...
Chain lamp...I've posted many before, but this is the first one made using a jig.
 We made a jig to keep the chain straight which made the product to be cleaner and much faster to make.
Devils tail wall hanger....because I felt like making one.
 Concrete top sink...This is for our bar build out at what will be called "Tavern 57" in Chicago.
It's one of 3 sinks and one giant bar top all made from concrete.
 Concrete is a really cool medium to work with, and we don't work with it as much as I'd like to because it's stupid heavy and I'm old. Truth.
 New website, more retail work, doing outdoor street fests...we're finding our way.
We're trying new things to see what works, to see where we fit in and it's all essential in order to grow.
 Somewhere there's a dude playing guitar in his moms basement, and he is the best guitar player in the world, but until he get's out of his moms basement and plays for an audience...no one will ever know and his talent dies with him and everyone misses out.
 Get yer dick (or vagina) wet. Go outside your comfort zone. Try new things. Take the plunge, otherwise you'll never know.
 Could have or should have, just doesn't cut it.
This show was exhausting. Me and Zach both missed out on time with our family this weekend, but it's those sacrifices that dictate our future and the future of our families.
 This is real life. You pay to play.
There is no such thing as luck. Either you put in the work or you didn't.
  Anyway...now that the weekend is over, it's back to building. I swear to god that my face hurts from 30 hours of fake salesman smiling.
 Have a good Monday my friends.

Monday, June 12, 2017

SHITTY DIAPERS



Everything you see here is going to our retailer Jaunt in Arlington Heights.
 The bowling alley top bar is a custom order.
We were given "inspiration" photos, and tried to comply with all the little details as well as added a few of our own.
 The coffee table is just us fucking around with color.
I mean...why not?
 Shit is just bland-blah-boring sometimes, so why not fucking blue? Add blue...see what happens.
2 of the 3 lamps are for Jaunt. The 3rd lamp is for Motoblot.
 As much as we'd like to sell as much stuff as possible at Motoblot, it's also a way to showcase and network.
It's a motorcycle show. Maybe someone will wanna walk around with a fucking lamp all day, and maybe not, but what they will know, is where to get it if they like it.
 We've made enough cash and carry items so that we don't totally eat shit, but we want to showcase some bigger items as well.
 We're also going to have t shirts and shop rags for sale and once the show is over, those items will be available at www.makerschicago.com , in case you live in fucking Idaho and don't wanna make a 23 hour drive to look at motorcycles and buy a couple of dirtbags t-shirts.
 I've been thinking lately (you all know what that means) about "moments".
If you dissect an average day, you realize that most of that time is filler bullshit, and the things that define what will soon be your past, are "moments".
 How do you have more moments and less filler time?
I don't fucking know, but if I did, I'd be able to make Tim Robbins bank account look like my daily deposit.
 One thing I do know is that we need to spend less time focusing on what we need to do later and be present in what is happening right now.
 Here's an example...Saturday night, my son wanted to ride his bike. He just grasped the whole bike riding thing the day before and he wants to get better at it. Although it was already 9pm and the house was a disaster from a sleep over the night before, I am in no way going to hinder his progress in the fine art of bicycle riding.
 We went to a school across the street that has a big empty parking lot. Off he goes exploring every inch of that parking lot on 2 wheels, and I'm sitting on the curb freaking the fuck out over everything I need to do when we get home.
 I caught myself.
Here I sit, a gorgeous night, cool breeze, clear sky, bright moon, and I'm sitting on a curb consumed by dishes and putting shoes away?
 It took me a minute, but I was able to clear my mind and put myself in the moment.
The result was staggering.
 Not only did I enjoy the moment more, but I can tell that my son was happier because I was really present in what was going on.
 Yeah, we went to bed hella late, and no, I didn't finish all the stuff that I wanted to finish, but so the fuck what?
 What I gained from being present in a moment, totally trumped all the bullshit that I didn't finish in my self allotted time frame.
 Did anyone die because I didn't put his flip flops away, or because I only did half of the dishes? I don't think so, but I do think that both he and I will remember that moment for quite possibly a lifetime.
 Don't let shit slip past you because you're busy creating laundry lists in your head.
 Immerse yourself in the real, the present.
Time fucking sucks. There's never enough of it, so the ticks of the clock that you get...ya gotta make that shit count.
 As a parent, we love to pat ourselves on the back for all the wonderful shit we teach our kids, when in reality, it's them teaching us.
 Play with me...read to me...watch a movie with me...this is their way of saying "hey asshole...forget about laundry, and be present with me because I'm only going to be young for a little while and when you're the one shitting in a diaper again, and I'm off doing adult shit, you're going to beg god to have all of those moments that you missed...back, and you don't get them back, you just sit there being sad in a shit filled diaper."
 I'm not gonna be the sad old man in a shitty diaper.
If I do end up shitting in a diaper, that'll be sad enough as is, so by no means do I wanna add to it.
 We convince ourselves that all the tasks that we do, are for them.
Guess what?
 They don't give a fuck.
They want you.
 They want you to be present in all their new found experiences.
You owe it to them.
 And ya know what?
The world would probably be a much better place if you did.
 If you gave them the time they needed, then they wouldn't spend the rest of their lives seeking outside approval.
 What the fuck do I know?
I'm a glorified carpenter.
 I have no psychology degree. In fact the only degree I have is deodorant.
I am aware, and I am damn good at reading my kid.
 When I'm over occupied with distractions, his demeanor changes. My goal is too at the very least be aware when that shift takes place, and adjust accordingly.
It's not just about children, it can easily be applied to every other life situation.
 I'm at a stop light, and to my right is a outdoor cafe. Every mother fucker there is staring at their phone. Why bother? Why go out? Is it that painful to engage each other now?
It's Monday. It's gonna be a long, hot and dirty week for us.
 Enjoy your moments.

Monday, June 5, 2017

FUCK THE OCEAN.




I was asked a question the other day that actually made me stop and think.
 That is extremely rare because most questions I get asked are different renditions of the same questions, but this time...I had to do some head scratching.
 The question was an honest inquiry, and nothing offensive, just momentarily perplexing.
"What's with all the skulls?"
 Fuck. I don't know. I've never given it a whole lot of thought until that particular moment.
Was is my punk/hardcore/metal roots? nah.
Am I obsessed with death or dying? nah.
 I had to dig deep.
Deeper than I thought I would, and I had to sort through some baggage and personality traits.
 Then...the light bulb went on.
You know how rat poison or other shit that can kill you, usually have a skull and crossbones on the label?
 Well, it's sort of the same warning.
I'm not concerned with being ingested, but I believe my affinity for skulls is basically a warning label.
 You want to know me? You want to get close to me? Proceed with caution then.
It's my way of saying "I'm not looking for friends, or business ventures, nor am I willing to accept anyones bullshit or baggage. Tread lightly...you've been warned."
 Why am I so guarded and introverted?
None of your fucking business...that's why.
 Those who know my demons have gone through a screening process. They have EARNED a spot in the ranks.
 These people have paid their dues, gone to battle with and for me. They've seen me rise and fall and been there every step of the way.
 You don't just walk into my soul like you own the fuckin place.
Knock first mother fucker, and I decide if and when I'm opening the door.
 So the answer to the "what's up with all the skulls" question, is exactly that.
I'm actually more of an ocean than I am a skull.
 I'm vast and beautiful, intriguing and interesting, but also dangerous and violent, and if not respected, I will swallow your ass up in an instant and you'll never be found again.
 But ocean rings, or patches, or t shirts would be pretty fuckin gay, and not nearly as spooky and cool as skull stuff.
 So there ya have it.
Stuff we built...
 Another coffee table and side table set going to the fine gentleman who just got a coffee table and side table set..his name is Mike, but I'm gonna call him Noah cause the fuckin guy is getting stuff in deuces!
 Rolling table just slammed out for those wacky marketing genius's at Limitless Creative.
They needed a rolling table for a NIKE event in 24 hours and we delivered that shit in 4 hours.
 Go above and beyond for your customers, crush their deadlines, make it a pleasure to work with you.
These people are our bread and butter. They deserve our best and they get our best.
 We have so much stuff coming, and I actually just looked around the shop the other day and had to catch my breath. It's a creative hurricane, and me and Zach are finding a sweet spot in our working cohesiveness.
 We've always been able to feed off each other, hence being in business together, but we're reaching a new level of that.
 It's fluidity...like water...like the ocean (HAH!)
Fuck the ocean. I'm actually terrified of it.
 Had a run in with a Bull Shark, well, almost a run in, had the shark been paying attention, and I've never stuck a toe in salty waters again.
 Maybe that's where my occasional "God complex" comes from?
While Jesus may have walked on water...I ran on water like a Nigerian during the last 100 yards of a fuckin' marathon.
 All righty...lot's of cool shit built this week and apparently, lot's of new self discoveries to boot.
Head on over to www.makerschicago.com where you can buy our goods and while you're doing some good ol' healthy internet shopping, shoot over to www.witnesscompany.com and get some skull rings, so that people will stay away from you...works like a charm.

Monday, May 29, 2017

WHIPPING YER DICK OUT

Fucking 2:39am, and I'm up.
 I was going to skip a blog this week.
I do that that sometimes just to let my thoughts back up like Friday traffic in Chicago.
 Since I'm up at this ungodly hour, I figured "fuck it", it's Memorial Day, and from my observations of society lately, at some point today, everyone will have their faces jammed in a phone while life is passing by, so maybe I'll contribute and give folks something to read.
 All this stuff here is going to our retailer Jaunt in Arlington Heights.
1. console table made from old bowling alley lanes
2. live edge bar cart
3.cafe chair with swivel table top
4. stitched steel desk lamp
The way a retailer usually works is...you make and piece and they consign it, and once it sells, you get some money in 30 days, or the have specific requests and you wholesale it to them.
 Not Jaunt.
They gave us a bunch of money and said "make us cool stuff".
 Trust and belief.
The two ingredients in any successful relationship.
 By Jaunt doing that, they were saying "I trust that you won't blow this money at a shady titty bar, and I believe that you guys will make us items that we will be able to sell".
 It's the equivalent of letting a chick leave her tooth brush at your house.
I'm loyal to a fault.
 "Do me good and I'll do you better"..."do me wrong, and I'll super glue the locks on your house and set that bitch on fire while you're sleeping"-That's basically my life mantra.
 When someone goes out of their way for me and especially my son....there's nothing I won't do for that person.
 That's more so on a personal level. In business, the extremes are toned down a little.
We've been pretty lucky to have good customers and we've built some really solid relationships.
 We've also had our share of shit birds.
There are people who look at me and see the tattoo's, the dirt and sawdust ridden clothes, and take me for one who is easily manipulated.
 Bitch, I read "The Art of War" when I was 15, so trust me...I see right through the tactics.
Here's a couple tell tale signs of when a customer is going to be a piece of shit...
1. the promise of a lifetime of future work before you've even started on their current project.
 This is done in order to get you to make this customer a priority above all else, and as leverage to slip in a bunch of free shit, because they have soooooo much FUTURE work for you.
It's the dangling carrot tactic and believe me when I say I will snatch that fucking carrot and beat you with the stick it was tied to.
2. Promise of payment.
 This is when a customer goes above and beyond to express how money isn't an issue and how they have no problem paying. This is usually done before you've even given them a price on anything.
 When I hear that speak, I automatically shut down.
I shut down because what they're really saying is "I don't really have any money at the moment and I'm desperately hoping to string you along until I can either get some money of flat out ditch your ass".
 Good customers go about things in a very sensible, cut and dry manner.
Shitty customers have a tendency to whip their dick out before even buying me a drink.
 It's business though. There's gonna be good and bad.
If you get a bad vibe and you proceed because you're hungry, well...be prepared to eat shit.
 The good eggs...give em' your best and never take them for granted because they are your foundation.
I'm off to the gym, then to the shop to hopefully knock out what I need to so I can get home and get some yard time with the fam.
 Now, put your phone away and engage those around you.
WWW.MAKERSCHICAGO.COM

Monday, May 22, 2017

BE COOL-DON'T TOUCH-BRING COFFEE


It looks like we will have a vendor booth at MOTOBLOT in Chicago June 23-25.
 It's a motorcycle/hot rod street fair with bands, bikes, beer, a pin up contest, film festival and a slew of other shit. (www.motoblot.com )
 We don't do the street fair scene.
A lot of folks that kinda do what we do, happen to love them. In fact, they make their money for the year by doing them.
 I really want to spend 12 hours a day for 3 days, sitting behind a table, in the blaring sun, with thousands of people working their way into a drunken stupor, about as much as I want the inside of my asshole tattoo'd.
 I don't like crowds of people. I get real squirrely at those types of things.
The reason we chose motoblot to display our goods is because the moto / hot rod culture is one that is near and dear to us. The other reason, is that it's put on by the same people who do Riot Fest, and I know from first hand experience how they run things.
 If you look at their website, you'll understand why we decided to represent ourselves there.
As much as those street fairs weird me the fuck out, it's probably going to be a lot of fun.
 I want to meet the people that buy our stuff, or at least just like our stuff and our down with what we're trying to do. I want that connection, that interaction.
 You see, social media has made it real easy to make friends all over the world, and not have to spend any time with any one. I don't wanna knock it, because I have made some really close connections with some really great people via social media, but goddamn if I don't want some human interaction.
 I wanna hear your story over a coffee, I wanna meet the dude that "LIKES" every photo we post and tells us how bad he wants to quit his sucky ass job and make knives, because he was inspired by us.
 One day I took my kid to The Bean and Maggie Daley park last summer.
My son is playing in the playground, and there's this dude lookin' at me, and I'm thinking to myself "man, I think I know this guy from somewhere", and the dude is thinking the same thing, cause he makes his way over to me and says "Breclaimed?"
 Turns out to be Christopherrabbit from Instagram, and we chat it up for a few minutes, but both of us had out kids, and it's a big crowded tourist haven, so in lieu of what was a really nice conversation, we had to ensure our respective children didn't get abducted.
 But THAT is what I'm fuckin' talking about.
I'm a slow starter, but once you get me talkin'....I don't shut the fuck up (Zack will confirm that).
 So, if you can...come visit us at motoblot.
Allrighty then....on to the photos
 Cool ass lamp, big ol' LED edison bulb, I didn't think I'd be into the bulb, but I discovered that...I'm into the bulb. If you're not into the bulb guess what....you can change it. It's a light bulb. Real easy to swap out.
 You don't NOT buy a car because you don't like the windshield wipers, right?
Lastly is our helmet/jacket hanger as seen here on  display at the Witness Company lair.
 The owner of Witness was very involved in the chopper scene, and it's only fitting that his gear is parked properly.
 I love seeing our stuff in use. These hangers will be available at Motoblot in many variations.
We try to switch them up as much as possible, so everyone gets something unique.
 Thanks for checking in.
Come visit us next month at Motoblot, hell...come visit us at the shop anytime.
 There's only 3 rules to visiting the MAKERS shop...
1. be cool
2. don't play with the tools
3. bring coffee

Monday, May 15, 2017

I AM WHAT I AM AND THAT'S ALL THAT I AM...


With the launch of www.makerschicago.com , a couple of questions have come to my attention that I would like to address before I go into some kind of nonsensical ramble about the atrocities of humanity or the plight of the working man.
 The first question was...
"Are you going to tone your blog down now that it's connected to your website?"
 The short answer to that is...Fuck no.
The second question was...
"Do you think you have to appear more professional now that you have a website?"
 My answer to that is....I don't "appear" to be anything. We are professional. In fact, we're very fuckin' professional.
 I don't even really know what the fuck that means. Am I supposed to dress up like the fuckin' Monopoly Man when I go to the shop?
 "Appear professional". This isn't a scam. We're not selling vacuum cleaners door to door or doing an infomercial on some magic cream that makes your dick bigger.
 We don't alter our appearance or verbage  when we meet clients. Most clients don't give a shit. We're not making talking coffee tables. If a client doesn't like the way I look or speak, they never have to see nor speak to me again once their piece is in their space if they so desire.
 That question kind of bothered me because I'm not a fucking idiot.
Yeah, if we have a meeting with Starbucks or a Bar owner, or a home owner, I'm gonna try to not smell like burnt metal, but if we're meeting you at 2pm, chances are we have been building shit since 7:30am, so my apologies if I offend, you'll get over it.
 I understand society is all about appearance, and I still don't give a fuck. It's not like we're babysitting your kids, we're making you pieces out of steel and 100 year old wood and leather and bullet casings and barbed wire and a whole slew of other dangerous shit.
 I'd buy a motorcycle from a guy in a bunny costume if the price was right. Once the paper work is signed and I go riding off into the sunset, I never see Mr. Bunny Suit again.
Things like that get me a little worked up, and what's worse, is that the question is actually a common occurrence.
Let me get to the photos because we all have shit to do...
Chain lamps..they're happening...you can buy em' now...they're not that expensive...they're really fuckin' cool.
The coffee table was a custom build for an old friend.
 It was built from reference photos that he text to me of his existing decor.
It was a perfect match apparently, because he ordered 2 more.
 Nothing makes me happier than when our clients are stoked.
When all your work, all your worries disappear after a client receives their piece...THAT is the ultimate gratification and THAT is what we strive for every single time.
 Thanks for dropping by and thanks for all the positive feedback and support on the new website.
It's Monday...Lets "appear" to be happy, let's "appear" to be grateful for another day above ground, let's "appear" to treat each other with kindness and respect, let's "appear" to give every moment the best of us.
If we're an appearance based society, lets at least try to appear human.

Monday, May 8, 2017

CAN I GET A WITNESS




A couple of weeks ago, my friend Dr. Andrew Carr brought his family up to Chicago from St. Louis.
 Me and my son picked him up from his hotel on a beautiful Saturday morning, and gave him a little tour of Chicago, outside of the tourist traps.
 Let me tell you a little bit about Dr. Carr...he looks like a body builder, that went to prison, where he was broken out of the joint by the editors of GQ magazine....That's just looks. Don't judge, because this big, tatted up, well dressed teddy bear collects chemical engineering degrees for the fuck of it.
 So we're driving through the asshole of Chicago, and Dr. Carr has on these big silver and brass rings, and I say "hey, let me try that skull one on".
 I've never worn jewelry in my life, but in that moment that I'm driving with this massive piece of carved brass on my hand, something changed in me.
 He got his rings from a place called Witness Company (www.witnesscompanyusa.com).
When I got home from our outing, my 7 year old son, dug out every gumball machine ring he had and adorned his tiny hands with those tiny pieces of junk to look like Dr. Carr.
 That's when it clicked.
I love fine denim, artisan made clothing, rugged leather, but all those things will wear and die over time, but jewelry...hand crafted, artisan made jewelry...I can pass that down to my son.
 When I exit this life, my son can look down at his hand and remember his old man, if only for a moment.
When something interests me, I study it like I'm going for a masters degree in whatever it is that interests me.
 I studied the process, the people who make it, the history...I probably looked at every artisan mens jewelry maker on the internet, and they all brought me back to Witness Company.
 Stuff was either cheesy, over the top, over priced (for me), or just not interesting enough for my taste, but Witness was just the right fit for my style, ethics, and budget.
 I was inspired to make the skeleton hand jewelry display.
I'm not sure if it will work, because I don't own any rings yet to display on that piece, but regardless, the challenge to make a skeleton hand out of steel filled me with a huge sense of accomplishment because let me tell you...that shit was not easy to make.
 The next piece is a commissioned clothing display for Botteligera in Rome Italy, which is a mens clothing store that highlights American made brands.
 The last photo is me working on a chain lamp.
As Zack finishes up the website, we have been creating pieces for our webstore. One of the many things we will be offering, are these welded chain lamps.
 This is the product that we'll eat shit on because the amount of work that goes into them, definitely did not dictate the price.
 We made them more affordable, because people should have them. They're rad as fuck. But there is a huge gap in what we deserve for them and what we can charge for them.
 We're combating the process by simply being better prepared to make them by making specific jigs, and ordering the electrical guts in bulk.
 Everything we have worked for over the last couple of years has brought us to this moment.
The moment when all of our work, all of our creativity, all of our soul, will be available and easily accessible to the public.
 It's time for us as well as time for you.
In the age of consumerism, you now have a choice.
 You no longer have to settle for made in China bullshit, or big box store garbage that every other swinging dick has.
 You can choose quality. You can choose products that out live you. You can choose to surround yourself with art that exudes the quality and individuality that represents you.
 Or...you can save a couple bucks, shop at IKEA, or Urban Outfitters, or Kay Jewelers, or any other outlet that rapes you of quality, integrity, and purpose.
 It's your money...I don't blame you. We've all been conditioned through out our lives to settle for mediocrity. That's why McDonalds, Starbucks, Ikea and a shit ton of other market manipulators make billions of dollars.
 Break free. Don't settle. You're an individual not a consumer or customer #224795...you deserve better.
Until you figure that out on your own, you remain a means to someones bottom line that satisfies share holders.
 How fuckin' bogus is that reality?




Monday, April 24, 2017

SWING FOR THE FENCES



The first "MAKER" made bar cart happened a couple of years ago by Zack and promptly found it's way to his living room.
 Since that one left, we had talked about making more, but never got around to it.
Fast forward to now, and the last one we made went to our retailer (Jaunt) and didn't last long there, as it was snatched up by an interior designer, so of course we had to make another one.
 Next up is the motorcycle helmet/jacket rack version 2.0.
Version 1 was all steel, and version 2 gets warmed up with wood.
 I'm sorry but wood and steel are like bacon and eggs, it's just never wrong.
The merging of motorcycle culture with what we do is something that's been a long time coming.
 When you look at motorcycle culture with it's engineering, attention to detail, it's ruggedness, it's vintage appeal, it's quest for freedom, etc...well, I just had to find a way to bring the 2 together.
 As "dirtbag" as the biker life style may appear, there's also a elegance to it, and that's where we try to wiggle our way in to it.
 Speaking of "merging", the last photo is a merge of classic mid century modern, with a dirtbag MAKER appeal.
 All steel coffee table with custom rusted top.
The appeal of mid century stuff has always been it's super clean lines. Well, the lines don't get any fuckin' cleaner than they do on this little bastard, but the material and it's application tug it towards a different direction.
 As I read back on this particularly boring post, I have to help out the readers that can't read between the lines here, because there is a underlying theme...
 DO SHIT DIFFERENTLY.
Be the game changer,
 It doesn't really matter what you do, but whatever that thing is that you do...do...do it differently. (like putting 3 "do's" in a row in one sentence).
 Find an angle and work it, customize it, change it, and own it.
We all strive to be different. We color our hair, put jewelry in our genitals, tattoo our faces, etc. We go to great lengths to separate ourselves  from the herd, while simultaneously thirsting for acceptance.
 There are a lot of cats out there that do what we do. Some suck, some do cool shit, but the pool is deep.
Our daily battle is always "how do we make this cooler?"
 Even if it's just a teeny weeny itsy bitsy bit cooler on the simplest of things, the bar needs to be raised.
THAT is what is going to separate you from every other swingin' dick out there.
 There are 2 things that scare the shit out me...1. being mediocre and 2. Great white sharks.
I've thrown a lot of shit in the garbage because I wasn't proud of it. I'm not delusional. I know that I'm not going to hit a home run every time I step to the plate. But every time I do step up to the plate, I'm going to try and hit that fuckin' ball as hard and as far as I possibly can.

Monday, April 10, 2017

LOSERS OF THE YEAR


Lots of stuff happening in MAKERS land.
 The first jammy is a Walnut, steel, and reclaimed wood rolling bar, which was made for our retailer Jaunt in Arlington Heights.
 We had made the trek out there a couple of weeks ago to drop off some goods, and they sent us back with a few live edge slabs to do "something" with.
 One of those slabs happened to be a live edge walnut piece. It was a really funky shape. It was one of those things where you're like "that's really fuckin' cool, but what the hell do I do with it?".
Well...that's kind of what we do. We take some shit that you wouldn't think could be much of anything and weave it into something rad.
 What it was woven into, was a 2 tier rolling bar, with the walnut slab being the serving tier.
Before I move on to the next items, I gotta vent.
 I know a lot of you love it when I go off on a tangent.
Zack was reading a article in a certain magazine which featured a build out that we did awhile ago.
 As he read on, he stated to me "next month they're featuring the top 5 "MAKERS" in Chicago".
I said to him "did you do a interview, because I don't remember doing a fuckin' interview".
 I don't want to sound like I downed a big ol' cup of hater-aid, but I'll be damned if I didn't have a "what the fuck?" moment.
 I mean we have literally yanked material from garbage cans and whipped them into pieces that have sold for thousands (plural) of dollars.
 I mean who is more definitive of a "maker" than the guys who call themselves the fuckin' MAKERS?
I was kinda bummed out.
 I had a moment where I was like "exactly who's dick do I have to suck on to get an old fashioned atta boy?"
 The thought was fleeting, and whoever it is exactly, well...they can suck their own dick.
We have operated on fumes. We have fought for every penny we've ever earned. In our darkest moments, we have continued to create beautiful pieces, and will continue to do so.
 We don't do what we do to win popularity contests.
Quite the contrary, we're way more "go fuck yourself" than we are "look at me".
 So, Kudos to the top 5 makers in Chicago next month, because that accolade and $3 will get you a cup of coffee.
 Just had to get that shit off my chest...moving along...
Steel motorcycle helmet and jacket holder prototype for THE BIGGEST MOTORCYCLE MANUFACTURER IN THE FUCKING WORLD -TOP 5 MAKERS IN CHICAGO!!!!!!!! (heh-heh)
 There's changes being made to it, and that's the fun of prototyping. They have ideas, you have ideas, and little by little they merge into something great.
 Lastly is my night job.
Me, my son, and my brother in law are doing a little apparel company called Pilsen Mfg.
 It's a way to teach my son work ethic, me to poke around in an industry that I have a love for, and my brother in law is the guy bringing it all together.
 The Japanese have been doing reproductions of American work wear since the early 90's.
They mostly keep those wears on Japanese soil to avoid legal issues.
 Our first offering is a reproduction from the defunct Fincks Overall Company out of Detroit.
As a kid, my grandfather had some Fincks stuff, and I was in awe of the pig. I didn't know what the hell the slogan meant back then, but as I grew up, I based my wardrobe on durability, meaning the clothing I wear has to be "as tough  as a pigs nose".
 I almost felt compelled to just get that one out of my system for sentimental reasons, before we move on to original designs.
 So...go to www.pilsenmfg.bigcartel.com and pick up a shirt if ya got a few extra bucks burning a hole in yer pocket.
 I think people truly WANT to support small business's, but just don't know where to go.
I get it. Most small business's are just kind of stumbled upon as there isn't an advertising budget.
 I think I'm going to compile a list over the next few months, not just to help fellow business's, but to show people that there is a community of dream chasers out there that deserve to be supported.
 It's way more personal when you shop small and you generally get better product because the little guy can't afford to shit the bed.
It's Monday...another chance to do better.
 Till next time...keep the wheels spinin' and the beaver grin'n.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

LIGHT MY FIRE





I hate "The Doors".
 As the website and webstore draws near, we have been coming up with home decor items to peddle.
Candles...who knew?
 I'm a guys guy, but candles and stuff that smells good have always been a weakness of mine.
In doing research on the world of "MANDLES" I discovered some of the absolute dumbest shit you can imagine...candles marketed to men that smell like "fart", "dirty sock", "whiskey", and a slew of other tasteless bullshit.
 Here's a news flash...nobody wants a candle that smells like a fart.
Can guys be gross? sure, but no more and no less than any other gender.
 Our candles are far from novelty.
These are art pieces. Every aspect of it is art. From the steel holder design, the hand painting, the scent blending, the wax pouring, etc. It's craftsmanship focused into a 2"X4" sculpture.
 You're basically buying mini sculptures that you can set on fire and it will smell good.
We're doing a lot of one off's and things that are made to order, like the hand painted clevis hooks too.
 Going into a online and retail format is a great way for us to push our creativity and just have fun and get loose.
 We didn't get into this because we like refinishing table tops or doing lame production stuff. Although we do and will continue to do it, the farther our creativity gets pushed, the better every aspect of our business will run. Basically, if we're happy...you're gonna be really happy. Just a bunch of happy fuckers doing business.
 Part of the exciting thing to me about these candles has been the learning process.
Even at my age, I'm constantly trying to learn something new. I need to be constantly challenged. It's what makes you feel alive.
 There's a science to candles, there's math, there's the thrill of working in a unfamiliar medium.
Excitement in your work.
 Think about that.
How many people wake up and say "I can't wait to get to work so I can underwrite this insurance policy", or "come on Monday...I have some fuckin' awesome tech support to provide!"
 There's nothing wrong with working for a check. Most people are cool with it. It's justified by most because they'll say "my job affords me to do all the things I want to do", and that's cool, kudos to you.
 I haven't been on a real vacation in 8 years. Why? Not only can I not afford one...I don't really need one.
You see, a lot of people do shit they hate 40 hours a week, 51 weeks out of the year, to go get stupid in Cancun for 6 days and 7 nights.
 Shall we do the math on that? My math equates to "you're getting fucked".
I love what I do, so I don't feel the urgency to get as far away from it as possible for a week or two a year, nor do I give a fuck about what people think about my car, so I don't need a new one every year, or a big house that has rooms I don't even go in.
 "Brian....don't you want MORE for your family?"
Fuckin' aye right I do....THAT'S why I'm working my ass off, doing shit I love, because as much as I want to give my family the world...I need to be happy and fulfilled too.
 I don't wanna be miserable and end up looking at my family as a bunch of thankless free loaders, I want them to ride or die with me. I want them to be fully invested in my ups and downs, but when I get us to the other side, it's going to be as much them as it is me.
 That is LIVING to me.
Life has a price, and we kind of get to choose how we pay.
 There's no right or wrong way.
I don't write these things to tell other people how they should live.
 Your job is important because...I need tech support, I need my insurance policy, I need my orders delivered, I need food.
 We ALL have a purpose.
We took our son to the aquarium a few weeks ago. I stood at this giant tank and stared at this big ugly ass fish. I was looking at this thing, swimming in circles, eating shit that happened to float by, and this big ugly bastard looked as content as he could be.
 I thought to myself, "what a miserable way to live...just content...no highs, no lows...just content". All this fish has to do is try not to die.
 I don't want to live by just trying not to die. I need some tragedy, some success, some failure, a whole lot of real love, and a sense of fulfillment in my work.
 Keep it simple.
Kids will teach you that...as long as you listen to more than their words.



Monday, March 20, 2017

DIG DEEP


Every morning I stumble out of bed, dodge Legos on my way to the coffee pot, fire up the laptop, check the weather and my horoscope, and then move on to Facebook were I'm pelted with inspirational quotes and memes that ultimately make me we wanna puke.
 I hop over to Instagram where I'm hoping to be saved by photos of guns and motorcycles, but I'm stopped dead in my tracks by a post from DannyDixxon from www.Dixxonquality.com.
 I don't remember the exact post, but after reading it, I was overwhelmed by a sense of hope.
Things have been rough for me lately.
 My fathers health and it's effect on our family, work and financial stress just reigning punches down on me, a constant feeling of being on the verge of drowning at the shallow end of the pool.
 Like I said, I can't remember the exact post, but it definitely cleared some of that head fog, and I felt positive again.
 I shot him a message, letting him know that his post gave me some hope, and we went back and forth for a little bit and my attitude and outlook has been changed for the better.
I made him this helmet rack with the leather stitched double X's as a sign of gratitude.
 Follow DannyDixxon on Instagram. There's a lot of shenanigans but a ton of positive stuff coming from a guy who clawed his way to where he is now, and knows the road to being in business for yourself.
 He told me 3 things to do when the chips are down and you wanna quit.
1.Dig deep
2.Get more creative
2.Become more social
 The next piece is a result of #2 on that list.
 We had to deliver some product to or retailer Jaunt in Arlington Heights (www.jauntchicago.com) and they sent us home with some slab tables to be re worked because they just wouldn't sell in their current state.
 The next morning me and Zack re worked one of the legs from the slab table, into this sleek 2 tier walnut side table.
 Our best work comes out on these collaboration pieces.
Very little discussion takes place. Each person plays off what the other is doing, and it all falls into place flawlessly.
 One day I want to set up a GOPRO camera, so you all can witness the process. I think that people would see what it's like when things get created from the soul. There's a lot of staring and walking around the piece being created that would have to be edited, but that's the process.
 If you know us, and you know our work, you'd be able to see this piece somewhere and be able to say "that's some MAKERS shit right there."
 That's the goal.
You see a Nakashima table and you know it's Nakashima, you see a Dunbar chair and you know, or a George Nelson piece....That is the end game.
 When your work is defined by itself, and it can stand alone and say it's name without speaking...THAT is a makers nirvana.
 Following your passion and listening to your creative soul is a bumpy ride. You have to have balls of steel and know how to take punches when they come in bunches.
 You have to get up, wipe off the blood and tell the universe that she punches like a little bitch. Or you can stay down, turtle up, and live with defeat.
 I can't live with defeat.
I can't tap out.
 I can only dig deep, I can only get more creative in my attack.
In the end, you can't throw your hands up and say "it just didn't work out", because YOU created the "IT".
 "IT" didn't give up...YOU did.

Monday, March 6, 2017

MOVE ON



I've had a rough week.
 There's been some personal drama in my life that I'm trying to navigate, but I'll get to that shit once I run through our builds (cause that's kinda sorta what my blogs were supposed to be about).
 Live edge rolling bar cart for our retailer JAUNT in Arlington Hts.
A lot of times me and Zack go off and build stuff on our own and sometimes we merge. This cart is the result of the "merge".
 I like building like that. It doesn't happen enough. Business volume sometimes dictates the divide and conquer method.
 The next one is a coffee table that was commissioned by a group of co workers who's co worker is getting married.
 Better than a toaster or a SHAM-WOW.
Lastly is another wall organizer, which was designed to help sloppy mother fuckers get organized.
 My fathers bad health took a turn for the worse this week.
He's cheated death a few times, and he seems to have dodged the grim reaper once again.
 Call it the luck of the Irish, call it being a stubborn bastard...I don't know.
The emotional toll these situations put on a family is brutal.
 I found myself operating in a daze all week.
Everything is touch and go. You panic every time the phone rings, I found myself scrambling to get information from my mom, brother and sister.
 Emotions bubble up inside you that you've repressed for years.
You tucked all those feelings away in some dark corner of your brain, and one by one they surface to pay you a little visit.
 I tucked them away in the first place because I had no need for them, I was done with them, but with the recent situation, they came out, and I had to acknowledge them again.
 I'm a different man since I tucked those feelings away a long time ago.
I'm able to see them in a different light. I've grown past them. They're there, but they're not so painful anymore.
 Delicately put...Me and my fathers relationship had always been strained.
It was either strained or non existent. More so in my youth and early 20's, and after that, it became cordial for the most part.
 I wasn't the easiest kid to parent, but I also now acknowledge that I have never known enough about him or his past to gain any insight on why he was the way he was.
 After going to see him in the hospital on Sunday, I realized that his past nor our past really matters because you only have today.
 Do you all hear me? Stop for one second and take it in...you only have today.
Your past should only be a point of reference, all things good or bad. Your past should be a tool and not a crutch or an excuse.
 Ask yourself...If I only get 24hrs. at a time, do I really have time to hold on to negative memories, feelings or emotions? I'll answer that for you...NO you don't, you have shit to do.
 It just sucks that sometimes you gotta figure that out when it's too fuckin late.
Me and my old man are never gonna toss a football around in the backyard, nor will he be giving me piggy back rides, or push me on a swing, but at least in my head and in my heart, he and I are in a good place.
 Let shit go my friends.
Call your dickhead brother that you haven't talked to in 10 years, reach out to that friend that drew a giant penis on your Iron Maiden album cover when you were kids...cause you only get today.