Zen Furniture

So much of what we do is mental, verbal or virtual.  Even when we get our buildings constructed, it's usually by the hands of others.  We have to derive satisfaction from seeing that the executed work comes together in a functional and attractive manner.  As satisfying as this may be when it comes off well, there's a missing element.

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig explores the metaphysics of Quality.  The analysis was obscure and convoluted to say the least, and probably was well over my head; but there well elements I could relate to.  When he wrote about the majesty of engineered components fitting together, it rang true.  High function is high art.  The closest I can get, it seems, to achieving this is in the work I do designing and building furniture.

The effort is, without question, an ongoing work in progress.  Nirvana has not been has not yet been found.  Nevertheless, I persevere.  What's the right species of wood?  How are the pieces joined?  Is the finish durable and appropriate?  A thousand questions - with thousands of answers.  The fact that I can attempt to create the resolution with my own hands is the attraction.

Maybe this infatuation is genetic.  After my grandfather retired from his butcher shop, he made things in his basement.  Just be cause he wanted to - and because he could.  I remember fondly his living room fireplace standing against the wall.  It was furniture - connected to nothing; but it was beautiful.  Sure, it lacked my ideal of function, but he had other things in mind.  I can relate.

Regardless, the notion of furniture as therapy works for me.  I need to get into the shop.  I'm pretty sure my problem is more than S.A.D.  Wish me well.