tat tvam asi

I was content with the overall design of the small lamp. However, I felt that making the frame took way too much time and delicate manual work. The lamp frames were supposed to be a canvas for Kumiko patterns. I didn’t want to spend 80% of my time producing them. I wondered if, given the tools I have, there was a way to more efficiently make the lamp frame.

Having built two lamps (one large and one small) I had a clearer understanding of the tasks I needed to be done with the help of jigs. I also had specific dimensions that I wanted to work with. Having specific dimensions meant I could think about specific jig dimensions (jigs that are adjustable are much more complicated to create). I imagined a set of three jigs that I felt I could produce that together would make it easier for me to produce better lamp frames … and set out on a journey that took over a week to complete.

Jig1: Mortises

This entire jig is basically a substitute for a drill-press or Mortiser (tools I don’t have). It is intended to create a hole which will become the mortise (hole part of the joint) in a mortise and tenon joint:

The base of the jig is intended to hold a piece of the frame using a twisted clamping mechanism:

The top part is indexed using the pins in the base and is sized to hold a router (which I do have):

Then the piece to receive the mortise is inserted (and clamped) from one side and a second piece, inserted from the other side, acts as a stop – making it possible to easily repeat the mortise in multiple pieces:

The router is placed on and used as a drill:

A depth stop on the router allows me to go to the same depth repeatedly … and it produce decent results (clamping is not as tight as I would like it to be):

During this exploration Litsa selected her favorite place in the workshop – right under the end of the vise … apparently fresh shavings are the best:

• 

• 

• 

Jig2: Tenons

The second jig is designed to make precise and repeatable tenons in batches (aiming for 8 pieces at a time). It too is made of a base with a stop and indexing pins:

• 

• 

… and a top which also holds the router but allows it to slide along the guides:

You can see the cut it makes after the first test rung:

Now when I add in the frame pieces, run the router, rotate … repeat 4 times:

I get this:

I can finely adjust the size of the tenon by adjusting the depth of cut on the router.

At this point you may be thinking “square peg – round hole” … and you would be right. My intention was to use a chisel to square the round holes. After trying that I created this small guide which I can clamp onto the piece and quickly make straight repeatable cuts:

• 

• 

• 

… and to my surprise it worked well … however having put it to use I intend to try rounding the pegs instead of straightening the hole!

Jig 3: Rabbeting

The 3rd jig is for creating a rabbet (into which I will be able to set the kumiko panels more esthetically and reliably) – this replaces a router-table (which I don’t have) but utilizes the router (which I do have).

The base is again a surface with a stop (along which the router can run) and indexing pins (for aligning the top part):

The top part overlaps the stop by a few millimeters:

… and in between them sits the work-piece:

The part of the work-piece that extend beyond the top-plate will be routed off; the part underneath the top-plate will remain in-tact. I use another clamped sacrificial piece to keep the work-piece in place:

The router bit that runs along the edge of the top plate and routes off material to whatever depth the router is set to:

And in the case of the lamp frame I end with pieces that have this profile:

… with the ability to produce quick, fairly precise and repeatable results:

I also added stop-blocks to assist me in creating partial rabbets:

like these:

Kiwi, at the time a new arrival at Bhudeva, also found a comfortable niche in the workshop:

… and then it was time to see how it all comes together:

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

With great(er) ease and precision I was able to create two small lamp frames.

I was not so fortunate in making Kumiko strips to populate the lamps. I thought I had this part down but the bandsaw performance changed drastically … namely, it started drifting … unpredictably. Drifting is when pressures released from the wood during the cutting force the blade to one side and away from a straight line cut. This video explains drift and sheds some interesting light on using a bandsaw for resawing:

I’ve since learned that using the bandsaw is not as obvious as it seems and that the form and quality of the blade itself is very important. I’ve discovered a couple of technique-tips that partially mitigate some of the problems. It is likely that an average-at-best blade came with the saw and that it performed much better when it was new, but may have quickly lost some of its literal edge. After quite some hunting and waiting for a replacement, a new blade has arrived but I’ve been to busy with other construction works at Bhudeva to try it out.

I was able to extract (from my failed cutting attempts) just enough Kumiko strips to populate one of the lamps with a new pattern and so another small lamp is completed:

• 

• 

• 

During this round I also placed more attention on the light-bulb holder. A simple thing that had required more refinement that I expected. It needed to:

• Hold the E14 lamp holder I was able to find.
• Be low enough in the lamp to fill it with light and avoid a dark spot at the bottom.
• Be high enough so as not to stick out the bottom.
• Be removable (in case the bulb needs to be changed).
• Have a place for a wire to enter and connect to the holder leads.
• Be closed off at the bottom to protect from any exposed wiring.

These were a lot of demands for something that seemed simple. I ended up with this shape:

It is hollowed out using a succession of drill sizes. Wire can enter the closed chamber from the bottom and the bulb holder sits snugly on top:

The small clipped corners make it possible to twist it in and out of two “rails” which are permanently attached to the base of the frame:

• 

• 

… and that’s as far as I have gotten!

When I have some time I will try the new bandsaw blade and see how it performs. Aside from that, I am left with the challenge of milling wood – converting the raw lumber into straight and dimensioned workpieces. This is a general need in the wood workshop (that I’ve avoided so far by only doing rough work) … but now it specifically pertains to both for the frame pieces and Kumiko strips … and there is no way around it.

It seems that milling will require move investment in machinery. There are numerous options – from cheap, to mid-priced but incomplete and through to expensive and complicated to execute (remember I still don’t have a flat floor in the workshop!). I’ve done most of the research and I am at another investment junction that I do not have the capacity to resolve for now.

So feeling both content that I got this far … and stuck!

I am an autodidact and I prefer learning through doing (I get very drowsy very quickly in most frontal, spoken learning configurations). Before moving to Romania most of that learning took place in mindy discplines … like learning to code. In Romania that changed when making & learning moved out of the virtual world and into the physical world. In the mental world errors in learning can be tricky: I can type into a text editor code that has syntax errors – until I run it; I can create poorly designed software and not know it until people use it (or never know it because no one uses it … because it isn’t good!). In the physical world, while there are similar feedback loops, there are also more immediate and vivid feedback that is sensed in the body before it is even understood.

When I started making in the physical world, I went through quite a few phases of disillusionment. When I came to build the humanure hacienda, I knew the sequece by heart, but when it came to execute: dig 8 holes for posts … the first whole took a month because it also involved learning what makes for a good shovel and what is a good time to dig (not immediately after rain because the soil is heavy and sticky, but not when its hot and dry because it is rock solid). This kind of assumed information is rarely a part of the instructions of the actual project I am trying to build. At first, I didn’t know this. I learned it the hard way. Now I have a nose that quickly picks up the scent of assumed yet unspoken information.

Take for example this video shot by someone who was lucky enough to visit a kumiko maker in Japan:

The video starts with lovely kumiko strips already cut and ready for assembly. What you dont’ see is how those strips are milled, sized, smoothed and cut (with notches). The only hint are the machines that you can sometimes glimpse in the background. These are specialized, expensive machines that don’t exist outside of Japan. You can see some of these machines at work in this video where you can see semi-indutrial production of kumiko lamps:

So the challenge I was facing was how to produce these strips with the rough pine-ish lumber I currently have access to and without making a large investment in tools. Whenever possible I look for graduality. I wanted to see if I could make a basic pattern within the settings of my workshop … AND how I would feel while making it.

This led me into the world of jigs – basically home-made (though some are available commercially) tools that are usually designed for specific tasks. So, for example, before even thinking about strips I needed to transform a rough piece of straight-grained lumber into a precisely dimensioned (all 4 sides are at 90 degress to each other AND correctly sized)  piece. In most western “Youtube workshops” this is done quickly and easily using 3 machines: a jointer, a thicknesser and a table saw. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the details of what they are and how are they are used … what mattered to me was that I have none of these machines. I did have a table and a vise and some hand tools (with no experience on using them).

To do this basic task (preparing a piece of wood from which I would be able to TRY cutting kumiko strips) … I tried a shortcut … working by eyes. I got mediocre results. I surrendered and started to create wining sticks … which was an entire journey … and you see where I am going … loops within loops … a simple task can become an entire project. Each cycle brings me face to face with tools (and/or skills) I don’t yet have. I ended up with OK winding sticks and a whole set of jigs I would need to get started with kumiko. This is the first set of jigs:

This is not really intended to be about woodworking (there is plenty of information about most of these things available online). It is intended to be about the hidden assumptions that I’ve encountered so many times. Had I not known they were there this journey would have been very frustrating. But I knew they were there … most of them were known unknowns … some were unknown unknowns. But going into this I made a space inside myself for exploration. I got stuck a lot … and when I did, I stopped. I stepped away until I felt invited to step in again. This allowed problems to move to the back of my mind and for solutions to appear without stressing over them. I had no schedule and no expectation for outcomes. I was taking one step at a time … and when I stepped onto shaky ground I took a step back and reflected on how to make the ground more stable.

My initial attempt to cut strips by hand was inspired by Adrian’s video:

But, I think because I was using a pine-ish soft wood, I was getting poor results. My saw blade kept travelling following the grain – leading to a lot of waste. Some strips (usually the nice straight cuts) snapped. It was not a pleasant process.

I “invented” a “cutting jig” for cutting with a hand-saw … that worked very well … at least for a few strips … the sawing rapidly wore out the jig. I did not enjoy the milling.

The “best” solution I did find came after stepping away for some time. In the back of mind I was asking myself “how would a traditional Japanese woodworker cut strips?” An answer suddenly appeared: “on the floor!” And indeed, when I set up an improvised inclined “planing board” on the ground and sat down next to / on it … cutting went much better (for one thing, the cutting angle became much more shallow!).

If I was to continue making kumiko I would need to figure out a way to work more effectively, to achieve better results and most important to me: to work peacefully and enjoy my time in the workshop. However, I managed to create a few usable (mediocre quality, close enough in size – see left side of image above) kumiko strips and was ready to take on a first pattern.

Most projects at Bhudeva reach beyond my horizon of perception. Their time-line is unknown, they require much physical work, much figuring out, new tools, new skills and a lot of trial and error. They also require a lot of preparation … so much so … that some “preparations” become separate projects. This often results in a long journey that requires patience … sometimes a journey so long that I feel it is better to approach it with the assumption that I may never reach the goal I am aiming for.

I did not want Kumiko to become another such project. Yes, preparations would be required, but I didn’t want them to take years. I wanted something that I could connect with in the short term. In winter, as I was reading about Kumiko, I aspired to be able to make an asa-no-ha in spring. I wanted to find the shortest path possible to do that.

The workshop is basically half of a barn. It was originally used for grain storage. When we first landed at Bhudeva it was full and inaccessible. I built a couple of saw horses, laid two 2×8 boards on top of them and got to work. Every time I wanted to work I needed to bring out all the tools and setup the saw-horses … and with every sign of rain I had to scramble to pack it all up. A year or two later (I don’t remember exactly when), we finally got the barn cleared. Moving into the barn was a major upgrade to my work conditions. I placed a few long 2×8 interlaced with bricks along one wall and had shelves … a workshop-ish!  … it was also a storage place, it had no lighting (I only worked when daylight was sufficient) and it had a dirt floor covered by linoleum sheets (that originally covered the earth “floors” in the house).

With that I’ve been working ever since. It wasn’t a pleasant place to be in, but it was key to creating almost everything else at Bhudeva. But I now wanted to make it a place I could enjoy coming to, to make Kumiko. Doing that “properly” would mean putting in a concrete floor (which would require clearing it out, which would lead to one or two other substantial projects), installing proper lighting, fixing the walls, cabinets, etc. And very quickly I would find myself in yet another journey that would span years. No, I don’t want this. Thats not quite true … I don’t want it now, but I do want this (I used to take solid flat floors for granted, their absence at Bhudeva taught me to appreciate them more).

So I asked myself what would be the bare minimum I need to make that asa-no-ha pattern? It boiled down to a table with a vise and some wood-working hand tools that would allow me to create small and precise (enough) pieces needed for Kumiko (so far I’ve been using power tools to create large objects that requires only rough precision).

And so I began to research tables and vises and hand tools. Nothing is simple, options everywhere:

• I remembered that I have in the workshop a large piece of thick veneered particle board that could serve as a table top and designed a table around that.
• I chose to go with a twin-screw vise.
• From the Kumiko books I could make a list of the hand tools I would need for making Kumiko.
• A couple of hand-planes (I settled on a versatile low-angle jack plane & a rebating block planes).
• Clamps … the vitality of clamps is hard to describe to someone who isn’t a wood-worker.
• .. and a few specific tools I would need to bring all of this together.

I compiled a specific shopping list and cross-referenced numerous online sources in Europe until I was ready to make an order. I hesitated for quite some time … for two reasons:

• I was about to spend ~1000 euros which is a big deal for me.
• I was also still considering different approaches to making some of the jigs (tools I would need to create on my own) I would need; different approaches require different tools. I was in a cycle of researching, thinking and fine-tuning my shopping list … and it was changing almost daily. It took many weeks until the list finally settled down and I had a clear plan in my mind.

Finally, when I felt the list was solid enough (stopped changing), when I was able to breathe softness into my anxiety around money and when spring was nearing (it got warm enough to actually go to the workshop) I ordered the tools I would need.