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- Beyond the Ideal: Crafting Connections in Wood
Beyond the Ideal: Crafting Connections in Wood
![]() | Kia ora everyone, Last newsletter, I hinted at a special project I was working on. Well, it's done, delivered, and looking great in its new home, surrounded by beautiful pieces of NZ artwork. But there is a catch. Its not perfect and I think its better for it. |
Imperfections may be what we are looking for.
I often acquire interesting pieces of timber, either by buying them or having them passed on to me. They sit in my workshop, patiently waiting for the day they're called into service.
This last piece was exactly one of those. About a year ago, I received a slab of beautiful walnut. It was freshly cut from a tree that had died and was full of incredibly figured grain. However, it wasn't perfect. There were signs of rot in an area where a branch had broken off, and insect activity had worked its way through the damaged part of the tree.

This raised a question: how do we use a damaged tree that possesses so much beauty, yet is far from perfect?
Generally, in the furniture world, any imperfections in timber are rejected. Some estimates suggest that 30-50% of wood from a tree is discarded during the processing stage due to imperfections. These can range from small splits, knots, rot damage, or insect activity.
Often, however, the timber is still beautiful but is wasted because it "doesn't cut the grade." We see this across many industries that use natural resources, such as vegetables, fruit, and other consumable products. It seems we've become obsessed with perfection over intrinsic beauty.
While I work, I often listen to audiobooks and podcasts. One I came across was discussing this very issue: a couple of furniture maker/designers had decided to create a project that used all parts of a dying, sick urban Ash tree to make beautiful objects. This way of thinking was a powerful reminder that timber is a natural product with natural characteristics that, for some reason, most of our society has decided are undesirable.
If you're interested, have a listen to this podcast:
So, when a long-lost relative—who has a keen eye for beauty — made contact, a coffee table concept was born, and my "problem slab" found its purpose. Rather than cutting out the rotten area and hiding the insect imperfections, we chose to highlight the unique beauty these characteristics created. And so, here it is. The grain is incredible, made even more so by the very damage the tree was desperately attempting to heal.


I've always had a slight fascination with cantilever structures, and I wondered how I could incorporate these concepts into furniture. This is the result: a cantilever slab coffee table that gives the feeling of almost floating, creating a light, beautiful piece of furniture for their reading room.
What do you think? Do you like the use of timber with imperfections? Do you like the cantilever concept? I'm always interested in people's thoughts, so feel free to reply and let me know!
Funerals and Books
I've been listening to a book and also to reflections on a life well-lived, and both independently spoke of the same concept.
I've been listening to "The Way Home: Tales from a Life Without Technology" by Mark Boyle. Mark is an Irish writer known for his experiments in living without money, founding the 'freeconomy' movement, and more recently, living without modern technology. His latest book follows his life on a block of farmland in Ireland, growing his own food and attempting to do so without modern technology such as electricity, motor vehicles, machinery, and computers.

It's an interesting read, and I'm probably too ingrained in the benefits of technology to adopt his approach. However, you can always learn something from someone, and a concept he discussed in a recent chapter has truly stuck with me. He reflects on how the adoption of technology brings speed and efficiency, yet it often comes at a hidden cost that we may not have considered.
As an illustration, he tells the story of traveling through Nepal and coming across a group of village women washing clothes together in the town center around the local river. He watched at first with concern and pity for the women "slaving away" until he noticed something: all the women were laughing and talking as they worked, and their children were cared for and included by all the women in the group. What seemed like a burden to the writer was a community relational moment for these women. His reflection went on to ask what areas of life efficiency has deprived us of community in our own lives.
That same week, I went to my good friend's mother's funeral. I didn't know her well, but I was there to support my friend. As he spoke, he talked about their home phone. He came from a time when cell phones didn't exist, but most families had a home phone. If you wanted to call your friend, you had to call their family's landline.
My friend's mother had a reputation for caring so much for his friends that whenever someone called, she would answer and ask deep, involved questions about their lives. Sometimes they would talk so long she'd forget to pass the phone to her son and just say goodbye and hang up! My friend made a side comment as he spoke that has stuck with me: "Cell phones have solved that problem now. But maybe we're worse off for missing those incidental caring conversations."
It's true. Technology improves our efficiency, but we may be paying a price we haven't noticed: the loss of our community relational connections. One thing I enjoy the most about making beautiful items for people is those little connections we make with others—those times we figure out together how to create something, and those times that something beautiful is crafted together. I think those moments may be small, but they're incredibly good.
I enjoy the times a customer comes back and orders another item. It's nice, and reminiscent of a time when communities knew the people that made the things they used and depended on.
Interested in people that make beautiful things?
I've been really enjoying We Are Makers magazine and their podcasts. If you're interested in people who create beautiful things and are doing that as a living, then this magazine is for you. It is a piece of art in itself! Check it out.

Commissions & Shop Stock
I've really enjoyed working on some interesting commissions lately! If you're looking for something special and custom, simply hit reply and we can create something unique together.
I also have a rolling stock of beautiful items available for purchase anytime right here.

The Flow of Local Wood: Reclaimed Swamp Mataī Table Piece $295