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.