12 posts tagged “furniture”

Dear Elephant in the Room,

Hi! What is it that you so urgently needed to discuss with me at 6:00 this morning? Before we begin, I would like to graciously thank you for extending your office hours, though it is still dark out - the regular 4:00 am wake-up call really wasn't working for me. Okay, you have my full attention now Mr. Elephant, what may I help you with?

Oh, you just wanted to remind me that I don't have a job, my bank account is dwindling, and what? I'm 28-years-old facing certain failure at life. Really? Why so harsh? I really don't think I'm a failure - I just like to joke about it sometimes with that self-deprecating humor that everyone...Oh, you're serious? Oh. Not kidding. Okay, then.

Let's see - when was the last time we had these early morning conversations? I remember, it was the Summer of 2003 and I had just graduated from college. I moved to a rural outer island of Hawaii and couldn't find work. We often woke together to peruse the internet for jobs abroad and work-from-home opportunities. Those were good times - the gripping fear, soul-crushing doubts I would ever amount to anything better than a valium-soaked housewife, and most of all - the insomnia. If it weren't for that part, I believe I could actually ignore you, Mr. Elephant. But, as you know, I am a champion sleeper and this restlessness will not be tolerated.

So, let's stop wasting time here: You think I won't be able to find a woodworking position in the Bay Area? You think I won't amount to anything in this field without Frank's tutelage? You're doubtful I will find a Furniture Design program without further accruing major student loan debt?

All valid concerns, Senior Elephante. I suppose, there is a chance that nothing will work out for me here - but is that really the likely scenario? I mean, I have no doubt that this is what I am meant to do in life, so surely, something must pan out eventually, right? Perhaps I simply haven't tried hard enough - I mean, these things don't always work out overnight (though admittedly for me, they often do).

Is it a back-up plan you want me to formulate? Because you know it's not like me to settle for anything short of perfection. Would you be satisfied if I simply tried harder? You want me to call these woodworking folks rather than emailing? Shall I meditate on this opportunity unfolding before me? Or do you simply get-off on watching me pace the house alone in the dark?

Fine. I will take this early morning opportunity and keep seeking my next woodworking position. But, hey - just in case you are friendly with The Universe - may I also put in a request for a yoga guru to enter my life and guide me along in my practice? Oh, and the woodworker/employer and the guru don't have to be the same person, but that would be awfully convenient, huh? Just saying...

Yours,
Miss Scotch

DollyMix: Miss Scotch tells us what it's like to be a woodworking shopgirl in an male industry...

While I weep silent, joyful tears in the corner with gratitude for CupCate.

xoxo,
Scotchie poo

(Thank you all for your feedback! I am so glad the reviews were positive! Sadly, the tables haven't sold like I thought they would, but I did manage to sell one (thanks, gurl!) and I will be putting so much love in that table - love is going to be emanating from that thing like the sun for decades. Also, the platter below didn't sell :( If any of you have any ideas on how I can draw more traffic to my etsy site, PLEASE let me know! Lastly, I had to bump the price on the table to $225, because that is the actual production cost without me having to eat any of it - I was going to do so only because I thought I would make it up in quantity.)

Hey, everybody! Sorry I've been MIA for the past few days, been furiously working on 2 new items for my online store. As I mentioned before, it was important to me to design a table I could build for around $100 and ship for $25...and I did it almost did it! I also created a multi-functional platter that can be used as a plant stand, condiment tray, dining table centerpiece, desk accessory, etc. Please have a look and tell me what you think! All constructive feedback is greatly appreciated! I've been working on these too long, I've lost perspective! :)

$225

$42.50

10 comments

Today was yet another stressful business day for me. When did island living get so hard? I shipped the last of my etsy orders - a cheese board w/koa spreader that I grossly miscalculated the postage on. I charged $16.05, which turned out to be more like $37.50 with the odd-shaped box, plus packaging materials, and USPS's new measurement system. Basically, I made it for free.

Money stress has definitely gotten the better of me, and those whom I love have been vocal in their suffering. I am trying hard not to lose perspective, after all, I am just starting out, doing what I love so much that, literally, it doesn't bother me to do it for free. It's not the labor at all, nor the product itself (it turned out gorgeously), it's the nagging fear of not being able to pay my meager bills this month.

My tank was on empty as I drove about town on my various missions. I visited Home Depot to special order table legs from the Mainland, and put $40.86 on a debit card with only $49.00 in the account. But that's okay. I'm starving, and I need wood more than food. I have this idea for an occasional table/nightstand that I want to build with a price point as close to $100 as possible. If I don't have to make the legs, the shop time saved cuts the price significantly. Also, the postage would be much lower because it could be broken down for shipping. 

This is my idea:
                              

milo nightstand

2 comments

bar stool

I would then photograph my prototype in a cute bedroom setting, slap that $100 price tag on there and (hopefully) score some orders.

What do you think? Would you guys pay that much for a semi-custom table? Frank thinks I'm crazy, but I have to at least try.

After I finished up all the outstanding orders, I decided to sit down and review the copy I had written for my online store. Oh my fucking God. I was mortified!!! I was so busy making the items, I didn't have time to review the crap I had scribbled down, just to have something up there. I thank you, Vox friends, for holding your collective tongues while I gathered the time to fix the egregious spelling and grammatical errors I posted for the whole world to see! I think I'm having that naked-at-school dream, again.

Final order of business: some of you may have noticed that I took the link down to Frank's etsy store. That was because we were originally toying with the idea of putting all of his items in my store, but have now decided to open a gallery space online, where I am both the curator and artist's assistant on the works. These items fall under the category of "cool stuff I help Frank make, but could never, in a million years, make by myself," such as the wood clock and the harmonograph.

Okay, that's it for me. I am exhausted and have more editing to finish up tonight. Hope you are all well out there in Voxland and here's to hoping none of my stress or crankiness wears off on you.  

(Big, BIG, Thank-you to everyone that placed orders through my Etsy account! I am speechless with gratitude. Also, I forgot to mention that I started a Furniture group on Vox, for anyone else that thinks furniture is sexy. Please drop by & check it out: here.)

Aloha Friends,

To the left of this page you will note that I have added 2 new links. Under "BUY MY STUFF" you could (if you were so inclined) help a starving woodworker named Miss Scotch pay her billz. Under "YAY! PRESENTS!" you will find my Amazon wish list, which contains important texts for my continued education in furniture building. Okay, so there is one item that is not strictly business - but hey, a nice scotch glass is important, too.

Here are some of the goodies for sale:

New item:

milo nightstand

2 comments

Also, please know that your continued readership & feedback is the most important thing to me. Don't feel like you have to buy me stuff to make me happy. However, if you're feeling generous, you know where to look.

xoxo,
Miss Scotch

Whilst I still have the strength in my worn-out fingertips and exhausted arms to type, indulge me this moment to think- out-loud.

Writing was my first love, a love that would later go on to save my life several times after the tires blew out on the road trip of my adolescence. Thankfully, I was able to steer that sucker, clunking & chugging, burnt oil fumes spewing in the air, into the driveway.

I made it, but it was close.

When I learned to write, I wanted to become "a writer." When I won my first prize - a trip to a "Young Author's" convention at the local college - I was ruined. Like so many who have gone before, my ego swelled to life-size and started doing all the thinking for both of us. Suddenly it was no longer about expressing myself, it became about winning that big cookie again. Never was I able to replicate the victory and, really, it's no wonder - considering my tainted intentions.

Writing soon became therapy. I wanted to be dead, but I wanted to take them with me. My choice was clear - walk in shooting or write about going in shooting. As an aside, I am grateful to have found a productive means of release. Staying home from school that April day, watching Columbine unfold, I grieved for everyone involved, but especially so for the two boys who never found a better way to channel their aggression.

But back to the topic at hand...

No, it wasn't until after college that I would find true love again.  The day was not especially remarkable in climate or mood, but it was the day Frank, my mentor, handed me an orbital sander and said, "Go ahead. There's nothing you can do that I can't fix." That was the day I was taught to work with my hands and it was love.

To create pretty, functional things...

A bed, dresser, or bookcase that fit a specific need but also scratch that intangible itch, one I believe we all have, to own something unique and not mass-produced. An object that took time, consideration and effort with real human sweat to back it up.

This time around, I will not allow hubris to corrupt my process. (Easily said, considering I am humbled daily by my inadequacy). Should my work ever become worthy of prizes and accolades, I swear to you, my gift will not be polluted by dreams of grandeur.

Writing and I will still flirt from time to time...exchanging glances from across the room or, even occasionally, still being intimate...but building...building is what, I believe, I was put here to do. Building furniture, I will acquire the skills that may allow me to put a roof over someone's head just as easily as make a bed for them to rest on. More importantly, it will be a roof or bed that is constructed, for no other purpose, beyond the fulfillment of my heart's own desire to give creatively and generously, in all things.

And that, I believe, is what it's all about.

I had an epiphany awhile ago when I received an email from a friend who inquired, "So, your stay with Frank is going to be longer than you thought, huh?" That was the moment when I realized that Frank is my sensei. I would love to learn more about the sensei/disciple relationship in traditional Japanese martial arts because I am certain that I am in the midst of a similar situation.

How do you leave your sensei? I mean, really. How do you do that? Especially when he is in the midst of teaching you something of great importance? I can already see trouble coming down the pipes...I don't know how long it will take for him to teach me all that he has to offer, or more specifically, I don't know how long it will take me to get his teachings into my thick skull. But the question remains - how could I possibly leave in the middle of this transmission of knowledge?

How will I know when I am ready to strike out on my own? How long will it take? Is this a question that traditional martial artists had to ponder or did they, more likely, just accept that it was going to take as long as it was going to take and there was nothing they could do about it? More importantly, were they wise enough to simply appreciate how lucky they were in the first place to be learning this stuff from a great master?

Oh! And look - this is the ninja bed he built for me:

my ninja bed

One of the best things about living in a rural part of Hawaii are the constant reminders of my environmental impact. We are so far off the grid our water comes from a catchment system, meaning a giant pool in the back of the house that traps rain water. Every time I turn on the sink or shower, or start a load of laundry, I can hear the tank chugging and straining to produce that water.

Also, this part of the world is so remote, there is no trash service. Therefore, one or twice a week, I load up my car with all of my waste and truck it on over to the dump myself. Being intimately involved in this process is a constant reminder of what "away" really is when we throw things "away." Of course, living on an island in and of itself is a constant reminder. A finite area to be tread upon, a limit of resources.

Unfortunately, having an automobile is essential here. The public transportation is nonexistent in most places and only available on an extremely limited (read: unreliable) basis everywhere else. Therefore, my footprint on the planet just got a little bigger. There are a lot of people here that have converted to bio-diesel but I am shamefully ignorant of what that requires. In addition, I am borrowing a vehicle from a friend and therefore can't really do much about it.

Sadly, the lacquer I was spraying on the dining set yesterday probably contributes to warming the globe as well. I could make the switch to oils but this process isn't really suitable for furniture, as it is for smaller items like bowls, jewelry boxes, chop sticks, etc. Oiling a piece of furniture requires several coats initially, then the client is responsible for oiling it about once a year after that. Eventually, the oil oxidizes and the whole piece has to be stripped & refinished anyway. Lacquer requires an initial spray, which is harmful no doubt, but will last for the lifetime of the piece.

This, along with buying more expensive yet sustainably harvested woods are the 2 biggest things I have to consider on my new career path. Right now, for example, I am in the midst of refinishing a table. It has many details which require chemical stripping, as my sander can't get into the nooks & crannies.

Okay. I'm depressed now. Back to the shop to see if the chemistry is doing its job so that I can do mine.
 

Yesterday, when I said I was sore, I had no idea what sore meant. Because apparently, I managed to sleepwalk into a car accident. My body is sore in places I didn't know it was possible to hurt. And again today, I piled more sore on top of the sore that was already there...

Yup. We're havin' fun now.

Perhaps the Mudge could sense my suffering because he sent me to run errands in town this morning. Every store was sold out of either all or most of what I needed. Also, all the stores here are so spread out, a vehicle is essential for getting from A to B. I am unaccustomed to this whole "driving" thing and "traffic" is something I had never seen on the island before today. To calm myself I listened to the Hawaiian radio station's soothing meles.

My first stop was Safeway. I cautiously approached the coffee aisle, where my biggest fears were realized - there was no Peet's coffee and everything else tolerable was out of stock. (Are we waiting on a huge shipment from the Mainland?) Anyway, there was a gentleman in a wheelchair in front of the coffees. I looked at him and smiled and he mumbled something like, "Oh, excuse me, I'll get out of your way..." I smiled again and set about my mission. Selected some Starbucks Gold Coast Blend (I know, shut up) and walked to a different aisle. I circled back around to have another look and the same man was back in the coffee section, where I wanted to look again. I smiled at him and mumbled something like, "Oh jeez, sorry" as he wheeled away.

The man in the wheelchair and his wife were paying for their stuff when I came up behind them and put my items on the belt. The checkout guy said, "Aloha, miss." and started scanning my groceries. The man in the wheelchair turned to the cashier and handed him a wad of bills over his shoulder. At first, neither the cashier nor I was sure what was happening but finally it occurred to me that the guy was actually paying for me, I laughed and said, "Oh my God! You don't have to do that!" He just said, "Yes, I do" and he & his wife smiled and left.

I am not exaggerating when I say that was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.

After that experience, I was brought down to Earth at Home Depot. I was in the aisle with an infinite amount of small drawers filled with nuts, bolts and screws, looking for a hanger bolt. (A hanger bolt looks like a screw but it has a long threaded end and no nut at the top.) After scanning the rows for 10 mins. I decided to swallow my pride and approached a tall skinny guy with an orange vest.

"Hi, do you have any hanger bolts? I can't seem to find them."

(Skinny guy looks at me like I'm lost)

"A hanger bolt? You mean you want to hang a picture? We sell little kits for that, they make it easy!"

(Skinny guy starts to walk me to another aisle)

"No, I need a hanger bolt for a piece of furniture."

"Hmmm...You mean you want to hang a piece of furniture?"

(I try to hide my displeasure and explain further...) He finally realizes they don't carry them and takes me over to the pre-fab furniture parts section where people can buy legs and table tops for shitty card tables and the like...Unfortunately, the table we are building costs $28,000 and I needed fucking hanger bolts.

It took me 2 hours to track down the bolts - finally, at the Ace Hardware, closest to my house (of fucking course). The good news is that I am now an expert on hanger bolts, washers and the nuts that cap them off.

When I returned to the house, Frank taught me how to do an inlay. The table we are working on has gorgeous koa veneers and the client wants a strip of mango to accentuate them. The process was tricky and the mathematics required to measure and cut such a specific groove and fill it with the veneer intimidated the hell out of me. Math is definitely not my strong suit and this episode sponsored today's moment of self-doubt.

After we were finished with the inlay, Frank let me do the final sanding. I'm struggling for an appropriate metaphor to illustrate how cool that is - maybe, putting the star on the tree? No, cheezy. Laying down the final piece on a huge puzzle? I dunno. You get the idea. In any case, it made me feel better and like I might have a shot at this after all.

Finally, I am attaching a few photos taken today at the request of BrownAmazon - for all the folks freezing ass on the Mainland. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to go to the beach, so everything was taken in/around the shop. Many psychic hugs and my warmest aloha goes out to all of you freezing in Mordor. Today I did my laundry and hung it on a clothesline to dry in the sun. I went to the market and bought some fresh caught ahi and I am about to cook it up. Soon after, I will go to sleep with wet hair and the window open. These are the warm thoughts I leave you with.

Today was my first day back in the shop. It has been nearly 2 years and let me tell you, there were several moments when I wanted to give up. As I type this now, the muscles in my neck and shoulders are ablaze and my arms feel as though they are being ripped from the sockets by men on horses.

And I smell like a goat.

This morning I awoke just before sunrise and got in the shop early. At 1:00 pm I took my first break. I walked into the house and checked my cell phone for messages. Once I sat down on the floor, it was only a few moments before I passed out cold. Frank came in the house about 20 mins. later to check on me - the only reason I woke up at all. Had he not, I probably would've been passed out til' Tuesday. All told, we finished up 2 chairs today and made some good headway on a dining table. Right now, I want you to come into the shop and meet my tools: