So I received this commission from my wife that starts like this:
“When are you going to make something for me that I want? I mean I appreciate the Roubo bookstand but it’s too fancy with all the curves at the top. That blanket chest looks unfinished. It’s not sanded well and it has those nails poking out like some sort of …like a kindergartner nailed it together. I like simple things; clean lines.”
I proceeded to defend the works and explain all their merits, for the third time. The problem is that my wife comes from a family of furniture and cabinetmakers. She was carving entry doors when she was in 10th grade. Me, on the other hand, I am new to this (comparatively) and tend to be clumsy compared to my wife who… let’s just say she has a knack for infant airway reconstruction. With all that in mind I have the determination to make something as perfectly as I can.
This is the actual commission’s description:
“It needs to be ‘yea’ big,” she says as she holds out her arms. “And about this deep.” More arm flailing. “I also want the bottom drawer to hold paint brushes standing up and a can of thinner. The top drawer needs to hold full-size drawing pads – you know the big ones.”
I reply with humph. She continues, “I want it to be Shaker-ish, Moser-ish, with clean lines, no crap and I want your best.”
To me that looks like 45″ x 31″ for the top, 24″ wide for the drawers and the bottom drawer is 12″ tall.
So here is the sketch that I came up with.
I prepped the boards and started gluing up the major panels. Once that is done I’ll go back and correct the drawing to match the actual size of the panels.
Now the only problem is one of these eight boards that make up the top is flipped over, and my wife will surely notice. With that in mind I’m scraping the boards and having a drink. For tomorrow, I’ll cut it apart and fix it.
— Ty Black