In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been taking this whole process very personally. To say that it has its triumphs and defeats is to describe my experience mildly. Here’s what’s been happening…
You’ll recall I had a joint alignment problem I was waiting to consult with Mark about. Well, I did, and as usual, he put things in perspective and helped me figure out a solution. To the left is an image of the joint after I cut it on the router and before I chiseled it past its point of fitting properly. Currently, one side fits well and the other…doesn’t. The side that fits well is shown below. While I waited to talk with Mark I forged ahead with other things. I added extra laminations to the rockers in the approximate spots where the legs will meet them. I will sculpt them down once the leg is attached so the joint is faired and smooth, as opposed to the leg and rocker meeting at a blunt, perpendicular connection. This went fairly smoothly (no pun intended). While the glue was drying I started sanding my frame pieces. I now know each side of the frame will need to be glued up for me to know exactly where the seat meets them, and once they are glued up, sanding will be slightly more awkward, so I did a first pass with eighty-grit before moving forward.
I used the random-orbital sander as well as sanding by hand with a flat block with sandpaper glued to it.
This helps flatten out any uneven edges left over from the belt sander or band saw and makes sure I don’t just continue to sand down any lower grooves. The block rides along the high parts and smooths everything down to one level.
Then I glued up the armrest/front frame connection (above). This was a flush fit with a lot of glue surface-area that won’t ever be in tension, so I didn’t need to use all that much pressure to clamp it together.
With the extra rocker laminations now dry, I was able to cut the rockers down to width. I did this by running them over the jointer until I had one flat side, and then running the other side through the table saw…carefully. That weird, brush-looking thing on the table saw is a featherboard. I pushed my hip into it as I ran the rocker through the saw and it, in turn, kept the rocker pushed against the fence tighter than I might be able to do by hand. I had to run the rocker through the saw slowly to make sure I was keeping the curved pieces as flat as possible on the table, and as a result, they came through with some burn marks (kind of like my soul in the upcoming paragraphs…stay tuned!), but I sanded these out by hand afterwards.
I finally met with Mark about my seat joint. I explained that I felt like my options were to either cut a quarter inch off on either side, effectively removing my mistake and starting over with a slightly narrower seat, or to repair the joint with an extra wedge of wood. Mark agreed these were two viable options but proposed a third option that is so crazy it just might work.
Rather than shrink my seat down a little–which I widened after the mock-ups felt a little narrow–and risk losing some comfort, I am going to cut the one side off that I screwed up, and actually glue a new strip back on!
Honestly, I am OK with repairs being apparent (which you’ll see very shortly is lucky for me!) as long as they are done well. If a piece of furniture lives its life with its user, gradually accumulating associations with experiences and memories over time, then why shouldn’t it also do this during its life with its maker?
All was plotting along swimmingly…and then the tornado hit…I unclamped the armrest/front frame glue up–now dry–and ran off back to work an event for my job for the next day and a half. When I came back yesterday to get back to work in the shop, I realized that one of the leg-frame tenon joints had opened slightly!
This makes no sense. It has been glued up for weeks now. There was only a little tension on this joint while this piece was being glued to the armrest, and you would think if it was able to open like this with a little pressure, it would also be able to close back up with a little pressure, and yet it doesn’t. It took John Vehko and I both putting clamping pressure on it at the same time to get the joint to close back up a little bit. Since it seems to have opened slowly overnight, I left it clamped together last night to see if it will also close slowly overnight. Even if it does, I will have to put a dowel pin through it to secure the joint, which will be visible, as there’s no way I’m getting it open again to add glue, and then closed again. Good thing I’m OK with repairs showing, eh? This will be an obvious one!
Failure never feels good. I don’t think anyone actually likes failure, and I will go back in to the shop today and feel angry at this whole situation. Of this I am one hundred percent certain. However, this failure also helps to reveal one of my greatest triumphs. When I saw the failed joint and showed John and he actually didn’t know how to fix it (he knows how to fix everything!) I was horrified. I called Mark in a panic, in the middle of his work day. He not only answered, but also took a few minutes from the install he was working on for his own business to talk to me about my problem and help me come up with a plan to solve it. It is in moments like that one, when I was on the phone with Mark, that I am overwhelmed with the incredible support I have around me and the way that life seems to be working out. I moved to Austin “for fun for the summer” eleven years ago. I screwed around working at a coffee shop for a few years and I have often felt that if I had just gotten serious a little sooner, that maybe I would have life figured out by now, or maybe I’d be a huge success already, or know exactly what I want. But after talking with Mark on the phone, I was overcome with happiness as I realized that I have somehow managed to put myself in the position of having a role model and mentor whom I admire so much and who cares about what I’m doing enough to interrupt his own work to talk to me and help me see that everything is OK and that this process is good and every part of it matters. I am realizing that I am working on something right now that I care about enough that it keeps me awake at night and brings me to tears of both joy and sadness. I have this kind of amazing support in other areas of my life that move me this much too, but since this is a blog about my chair, and since I’m already probably grossing you out, I’ll keep it about the chair. This realization wouldn’t happen without failure and the people who step up for me in the face of it. I know for certain, right now, that I am doing something very right as my life is exactly as it should be.