Walnut, 39”w x 9’l x 30”h, wipe on poly finish
Here’s a large table that could be used for dining or for conferences. I bought the slab from my favorite supplier, Groff & Groff Lumber, who has a large supply of slabs in many woods, mostly walnut and some of them quite wide. This particular slab, I learned when I worked it, had a bullet in it, which I wanted to leave but which the client did not. Some of the bullet had been planed away by Groff’s planer, whose knives were nicked as evidenced by the raised trail behind the bullet. I plucked out the bullet with a screwdriver. I did not save it. There’s an epoxy patch instead of the lead.
This is a gorgeous piece of wood, with that beautiful crotch at the end. The moment that the finish went on is the moment where I’m reminded that the sight of the grain and figure lighting up is the reason woodworkers endure all the sweat and toil, the noise and the sawdust, the aches and pains from moving heavy material around such as that top.
This was the last piece of furniture I made in my garage shop before moving it to a much larger and more comfortable space. I worked on the table most of August, and there were trying days of high heat and humidity, which made for some frustrating finishing days, to say nothing of the hours and hours of (necessary) sanding.
I tend not to think of the labor that went into the table and others like it. I do muse about passersby who commented on the table while I worked on it in the mouth of the garage with the door open so that I wouldn’t suffocate. They said that the table was beautiful, and such comments had me thinking of James Krenov who, in his first book, said that the recognition of beauty is innate, that a person can see beauty in an object while at the same time not know why. Beauty just is. This is always born out when I have had young people interested in woodworking in my shop and I place two boards of lumber side by side, one plain, the other figured (even mildly figured), and I ask them which board is more attractive. They always select the figured board. I ask why. They stare at the wood and think about it. They try to work through their reasoning. It’s just prettier, they say. I point out the grain and the figure and I say, “Visual interest. You find the board with the most visual interest the most attractive.” They nod their heads. Visual interest is what keeps me working wood and people appreciating what I make.
