Colgate-Palmolive Chair

Walnut Mirror Deux

Ashfor bench

"Gent's" Mirror

Walnut Mirror "un"

What makes a good sander good? Most would presumably argue that it is the finish; that is, the absence or at least the diminution of swirly marks left from a sanding disk that sands in a spinning motion. When finish is applied, one hope to see bright, shining wood grain not dull, swirly streaks. So "a good sander minimizes swirls."

I disagree. . .

So what makes a sander good? Dust collection and cord length. And not dust collection as in "how much dust does it pick up?" But dust collection like, does the hose to my vacuum stay connected while sanding? Lately I have been using Porter Cable's new palm sander and Festool's RO 125 Eq dual mode sander. The Porter cable is light and easy to use with one hand. But the interface between the vacuum hose and sander is a pressure fit plastic coupling. Every one knows (look at me with the sweeping generality!) that pressure fittings do not work in the presence of vibration (duh, a sander!)! I was sanding yesterday, and time after time, the hose simply fell off, allowing the sander to blow its exhaust right into my face, thus defeating the point of dust collection. Also, its cord length is like 4 or 5 feet. Way too short to do anything but stand and sand something directly in front of you. Time and time again I was pulling my vacuum closer to allow the sander enough cord to get where I need to sand.

The Festool on the other hand has a super long cord. I almost don't need an extension cord when sanding large cabinets. And its dust collection is as secure as an iron chastity belt: that thing is not coming off no way.

Mind you, both the Porter Cable and the Festool sand decently, Festool more so than the PC. But $350 better? I don't think so. This is not me promoting you to "drink the green cool aid" and go out an buy Festool. I am just saying. . .

Creation and Imagination

I have never written a blog post in my life. Literally, not a single word. So when my wife started this blog over five years ago as a way to showcase my work, I thought, "why not?" and, "Nice! A place to put some pictures. . . " I did not think, "Finally a place to think out loud for everyone to read" (which is what I am doing now). But as time wears on and wears me down, I think every so often that I would like to write something about woodworking, about creating something new, about my relationship to the craft and the need for patience, attentiveness, and integrity; write about what it feels like to draw a few pieces of cracked, rough lumber out of a stack of boards and form it into something that was hardly more than a thought a few days before; the satisfaction of knowing that, even if the thing is not original or unique--what really is anymore?--I created something that was from something that was not and someone's life is better for it, not the least of which is mine.

Perhaps this is the crux of the issue for me and the legacy of my business name: Baraa--To create, to draw order from something that is disordered, even chaotic and to set it on a course for enjoyment and appreciation (an oversimplification I am sure, but two years of Hebrew didn't get me very far in grad school). It seems to me that as I partake in the process of furniture building, I am exercising a basic part of my humanity--dare I say our humanity?--which is to create something, to utilize our god-given ability to enhance the world by the miracle of our imagination.

This is, of course, an idealization. Honestly, it is a rare moment when I stop and actually consider all that I do to create. Most of the time I am focused on getting the job done, getting the paycheck, getting the next job lined out, streamlining the labor process, buying the next tool that makes the job faster, easier, and better, weighing the profit margin or cursing after ruining a perfectly good and expensive saw blade. But every now and again I realize that what I do as a furniture builder and cabinet maker has substance and is meaningful because it comes from me and it demands my attention, it draws upon my imagination to see the 'what can be' in the 'what is not' and the world is better for it.