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This is my last post till my next plane build, I have redrawn all the planes to the exact measurements provided by Larry Williams. After reading through the many articles with different opinions offered on Larry’s old bulletin board service, I believe that for the larger moulding planes there is no need to angle the mortise. After reading not all but some of the findings of other readers not all moulding planes had the taper. I have built the No.16 without the taper and did so in ignorance and not intentionally, after all plane making is new to me. But having done so and after spending a considerable amount of time adjusting the iron, the plane works exceptionally well without a taper. There is still a 1/8″ wall left on the blind side but I cannot say that a taper wouldn’t be necessary on smaller planes. None the less I’m not willing to modify anything until I thoroughly learn the trade of building planes and it isn’t as easy as one might think at least not for me. The only part I struggle with is shaping the iron, you can do everything right but if you don’t get that part right then it won’t work. In fact, if you screw up the wedge or get a blow out on the mouth you can pretty much throw your plane in the bin. There is definitely an art in building these plane that require your utmost attention and due care.
With the mouth opening being so large I thought there would be some issue and I reckon there will be when dealing with difficult grain but that can be said even if the iron was skewed and the mouth tightly closed. But so far the shavings ejected out without getting clogged and I owe this to the acute angle I pared on the wedge. Keeping the planes body clean during the test fit of the iron is another challenge as well. Being beech a light coloured wood stains or gets black marks on it very quickly after touching metal. A light sand will not do the trick so clean your hands regularly or use a clean rag to pick your plane up.
I’ve slapped a coat of minwax antique oil finish, they all swear by it so I might as well do as they do. I’ll put three coats on over three days. Lol just where am I going to store all these planes?
That’s all folks, Take care.
I had this foolish notion that at some point, my new workshop would be all organized and tidy. Presentable. Then I was going to photograph it and post a tour of the shop here on the blog. But…it keeps gathering junk in piles, only to be cleaned up so I could work – and make another mess. I guess that means my shop is “done” as much as it’s going to get. I did write a short piece in Popular Woodworking about it – but here is a short glimpse of what it looks like these days.
Might as well start at the beginning. here’s the view to the door:
Looking through the door, into the room. The carving over the door is a place-holder. there’s a new one coming.
The main workbench. 8′ long. shelves underneath for large planes, boxes of tools like chalkline, hammers, mallets, bench hook and other bench accessories. Racks in the window for marking gauges, awls, chisels, squares – etc.
Same view, but extended to the left – showing the neglected lathe. More later on that.
Looking back toward the door – showing my version of Chris Schwarz’ tool chest. I couldn’t bear to paint it a solid color…small shelves wedged between the braces and corner posts. Auger bits, sharpening stuff, other odds n ends.
Here is that corner straight on – spoon knives and scratch stocks in boxes… random junk sitting on ledges til I figure it out. Could be years…
The view into the corner beyond the workbench. Cabinet for hatchets, chopping block below.
Patterns and story sticks. they’re everywhere.
I’ve taken this picture many times – it’s just beyond my workbench, the cabinet that houses the hatchets. Recycled wall paneling for the doors.
Inside the cabinet – hatchets, adze, twca cam in 2 sizes –
Like I said, the lathe has had little attention. The current plan is to make a set of shorter beds for it. Right now I can turn a 48″ chair post, but most of my turnings are under 32″ – so I’ll store these beds, make shorter ones, and save a bit of space. Right now, it is a place to pile stuff out of the way. Well, it’s not really out of the way. It’s just a mess. Books and notes to the left.
The old Ulmia workbench is not much better off than the lathe. There’s a shaving horse stuck behind the bedstead-in-progress. The oak desk box will go out of here soon. The baskets too. this junk-gathering place at least changes a lot, unlike the lathe.
that’s it mostly. A stove just after the Ulmia bench. A 12′ x 16′ building doesn’t require a lengthy tour…there is the loft, but I’m not going up there right now. It’s a rabbit hole…
What woodworking has done to me: I’m walking down a lovely tree-lined street in Barcelona, notice this tree, and all I can think about is veneer and bowl blanks.
UPS usually comes anywhere from 1600 to 1730 and the door bell battery is dead. I can't hear anything from upstairs when I am in the shop. I got my exercise tonight trotting my fat ass up and down the stairs every ten minutes or so checking to see if the man in brown had come. It made for a choppy night's work in the shop. Maybe I should just have the packages delivered to my wife's workplace? Just thought of that.
|has a secondary bevel|
|sharpened the block plane iron|
|my main stones|
|I start here first to raise a burr|
|this stone is second for raising a burr|
|the last stop for raising a burr|
|I strop everything I sharpen last|
|poly coat #2 going on|
|cheaper to get it with all the blades now|
|upgrade for the depth stop|
|the new and improved depth stop clamp is already installed|
|made a stopped grove out of the box|
|I want to replace this|
|the learning curve is going to be very short|
|still making a tapered groove|
Anyways it is almost 1700 and time to shut the lights out. I will have to add a box to the A+ list for this plane to be made. I'll have to reshuffle the batting line up some to fit it in.
What is opprobrium?
answer - harsh criticism or censure (came across this word reading the news today)
During the last class I taught at The Woodwright’s School, I think Roy got a little bored or restless. And so he asked: “Would you like me to make you a mallet?”
The answer was, of course, “Heck yes, please.”
And so Roy spent an afternoon making a mallet for me out of a chunk of live oak (one of my favorite species) as I taught the 12 students to build a Dutch tool chest. After a few hours of sawing, mortising, rasping, chiseling and finishing, Roy presented the mallet to me.
It is, of course, one of my favorite objects. I have put it to good use and, thanks to a defect in the wood, I broke off a corner of the head. No matter. Tools should be used, and so I use the other face of the mallet’s head to hit things.
In case I destroy this mallet, I took some careful measurements and made a copy in maple. I call it the Son of Roy Underhill’s Mallet. It is identical in every regard except for the species of wood and the amount of use it has seen.
And because I have been too long away from this blog, I present the plans to you for Roy’s mallet. Free of charge.
Here are the sizes for the head and the handle:
Head: 2-3/8” x 3-3/8” x 5-3/8”
Handle: 1” x 1-5/8” x 14”
You can download a pdf drawing of the mallet here:
Here are a few details not discussed on the drawing.
- The striking faces of the mallet head are the same angle as the tapered mortise, approximately 2.1°.
- The chamfers on the handle are 1/4” x 1/4”.
- Chamfer the top and bottom of the handle. These chamfers are 1/8” x 1/8”.
- The grain of the handle and head should be dead straight throughout. And free of knots and defects.
- The mallet is finished with linseed oil.
It’s a mighty fine mallet. Balanced in the hand and to the eye. Making one takes an afternoon of pleasant work. And doing so cements your lineage to Roy.
— Christopher Schwarz
Filed under: Personal Favorites, Uncategorized
My first piece of "furniture" with dovetails. A small rack for my neighbor. With a hand full of mistakes. I sawed the tails in Austria. Luckily I sawed both boards together. When home in Kiel I sawed the sliding dovetail on the outside of the boards. But I could change that, because I gang sawed the tails. That didn't help with the fitting, but it can't fall apart.
Polishing the sides of your scrapers to a mirror finish can be very useful, because that way you can use one of your finely honed plane blades to shave right in your workshop without needing a shaving mirror. Which brings me to another subject. I am happy if I can get my plane blades and chisels sharp enough that they will shave hair off my arm, which you don't need a mirror for. I know that some woodworkers think this is not good enough and that the hair should "jump" or "fly" off your arm. I once accidentally got one of my plane blades this sharp and it scared me. I was afraid that a blade this sharp would make the shavings jump off the workpiece and hit me in the face or eye, and I don't wear a face shield when planing. That could cause a lost time injury.
A while after the scraper class I took a class on sharpening plane blades and chisels taught by a foreman at a local high-end woodworking business. He does all the sharpening for his crew. One of the things he did was prepare a new chisel. He flattened the back on a belt sander, went to a grinder to create the bevel he wanted and finished off on a diamond plate, all freehand. The entire process took less than 5 minutes. This class was at the opposite end of the spectrum from the scraping class; it emphasized the practical and wasted no time. I don't recall a single jig. We all left with tools that weren't great but were usably sharp. I do considerably better than this now, but it was a good starting point.
We all have to decide where we want to be on this spectrum. Experiences like this turned me into a rather slovenly woodworker. As a result, I don't flatten the backs of my chisels all the way to the handle, I use the dastardly "ruler trick" on my plane blades, I can't see my reflection in the sides of my scrapers ... I could go on, but you get the idea.
In case you're wondering, I did eventually learn to sharpen and use scrapers. When enough time had passed after the class for my inferiority complex to die down, I spent a few minutes watching Youtube videos, gave it a shot, then another and another, each time trying to figure out why things got better, or didn't. Eventually I got the hang of it. I really like scrapers now. They usually make shavings but they aren't usable as shaving mirrors. That's the way I like it.
There are woodworkers that are really into sharpening. For some, it seems to be almost a meditative experience. There is nothing at all wrong with this and I am in awe of them, in fact somewhat envious. Really. I wish I could lose myself in sharpening the way they do. Instead, I ask myself whether the extra sharpness results in better woodworking. How long do these superior edges stay sharper in practice? I suspect not very long, but I don't know.
Calculus taught me to see processes in optimization terms. As your tools get sharper your woodworking gets better, first rapidly, then more slowly. You reach a point where extra effort isn't worth it. That's my mental model, which has its own limitations.
As for classes, what you learn in classes is partly a function of the skill of the instructor as a woodworker and partly a function of his or her skill as an instructor. This will sound arrogant, but I could teach a much much better class on sharpening and using scrapers than the one I took, even though I don't have near the skill with them.
As promised we will look into the process of jointing, gluing, and inserting dovetail keys into the top of the table in part eleven of our journey.
The rest of this particular chronicle can be found here.
The Kershout boards in the picture below were prepared up to this point towards the end of last year and has since been kicking it with my 1969 MGB in a separate garage.
The first task is to arrange the boards as best as you can with regards to colour matching and balancing out defects. This is where you whip out your artistic licence. This is after all a tribute to the legendary George Nakashima.
I took the opportunity to see what the trapezoid leg would add to the overall look. The top looks very light in colour (in this picture), but I can assure you that it will be transformed to a very dark reddish brown once the finish is applied. The Kershout dovetail keys contrasts exquisitely with the lighter Witpeer boards that makes up the trapezoid leg. I also like the darker lines created by the defects on the leg. It was strategically place to balance out from an aesthetic point of view. We will see later in this post how the reverse of the mentioned timber combination has a similar effect with regards to the top.
As you can see here my bench really came into it’s own working on the edges of these boards during the jointing process. I first prepared the edges so that they were close to the desired configuration, which is a very slight bow in the length.
Then the boards are clamped together with the two edges that will mate (so to speak) flush with each other and folded much like book-matched pieces before opening the “book”. This nifty trick leads to a cancelling out of the minute error that might arise in squareness of these edges with regards to each other. This technique is sometimes referred to as match planing.
Didi gave me a few pointers.
The Kershout is so ridiculously hard that I had to resort to using an alternating attack with my Lie-Nielsen low angle Jack plane armed with a toothed blade and a Shaw’s Patent Sargent no. 14C armed with an aggressively cambered blade.
Once the artillery softened up the enemy, I moved on to this shop made jointer plane to finish off the job.
I find my Festool Domino to be a very useful tool to keep the edges flush during glue-up.
It has become my custom to do only one of these edge joints at any one time given the short window to get the job done in our dry climate. Each joint is then left in the clamps for at least 16 hours. In other words, I tend to leave the glue-up for my final task each day. It is usually done at around 17h00 and left over night until around 09h00 the next morning.
Ready for the final glue-up.
I had to buy a set of 1.3m long 1″ pipes for my pipe clamps in order to do this final glue-up. Of course, as you would expect, my 1.2 meter wide assembly table was too narrow to accommodated the clamps for this glue-up. The situation therefore necessitated some problem solving on my behalf.
As you can see here a piece of wood (for each of the bottom clamps) was cantilevered off the edge of the table held in place by a clamp through a dog hole. Oh! … and yes, in case you wondered, it is my daughter’s “Biscuit finds a friend”. My English is not advanced enough to indulge in such haute literate.
As I have mentioned before, a mere mortal tends to sweat like a Gypsy with a mortgage during our sweltering rainy season. Didi is the master of African Climate Control (aka toplessness).
… and Bob’s your Uncle.
I modified the strip of wood that links my trammel points to draw a curve to soften the appearance of both ends of the top.Marking the location of the dominos like this helps to remember where they are when further shaping is done.
The waste was removed with an electric jigsaw. It is a crappy old Black & Decker that I bought many moons ago while still living in New Zealand. I do not use it very often to start with and do not recall ever calling upon it to munch through Kershout. As most things you do for the first time there were a few lesson to be learnt. These things (for lack of a better insult) cut on the pull stroke, which translates into a messy splitting out of fibres at the top edge. Therefore (in hind sight) it is desirable to have the bottom of the top facing the jigsaw when doing this job. Secondly, I realised that I used a blade that was too aggressive, which did not help either.
On the flip side, this indiscretion coerced me into a design tweak that might (or might not) add an interesting twist. You will have to wait and see just like me.
Another reason I chose this shape for the ends of the top, is to enhance the appearance of it being sliced from a massive tree trunk. The idea is that this shape resembles the end of a trunk that was chopped off by axe. If you imagine a board cut from a trunk like the one in the first photo below, it would probably resemble the top of my table as seen in the picture below. That is in my mind anyway, you might feel different.
Then it became time to fashion a few dovetail keys to stabilise the obvious cracks in the top.
I worked out how many is needed of each size.
Here I tried to work out where to place the keys with regards to my sense of (randomly planned) artistic balance. The picture below was not the final version that was decided on, but somewhere towards getting there.
For the design of the keys I chose an angle of 9º, which repeats all through the design of the table. This is an idea you might want to consider. You draw only one key, chopped off at different lengths, and write on the template the number of keys needed of each length. It is then cut out, traced onto the wood as many times as the key tells you and then you chop off the ends and repeat on the next sized key. This way they all have the same shape, but of different lengths in an attempt to add visual interest.
The keys were liberated from the above Witpeer board by means of a bandsaw.
Another useful trick is illustrated below. Clamping a piece of scrap wood across the top to hold the dovetail key firmly in place while it’s exact configuration gets marked out on the top.
Drilling out the waste by hand in such hard wood is no joke. “Trust you me”, as they say around these parts.
Enter: Lie-Nielsen merchandise in tandem with my trusty shop made Assegaai mallet. I chose the mallet as I needed a bit more heft than what the so-called Je ne sais quoi Persuader can deliver. When working “stone”, the extra heft is a must.
The lazy winter sun give us a better idea of the warm colours of the Kershout as it infiltrates my shop during the late afternoon.
It seems as if this post is riddled with tips, so here is another one. In order to see the scribe line better, one can have a small torch lying on the top to cast a shadow into the line. On my bench this is usually accomplished by positioning the bench light in a similar fashion, but clearly this top is too big to take to the bench.
Once the key enter it’s mortise like this I stop refining the fit. The key is then clobbered home after a frugal application of Epoxy, which acts as lubricant as well as an adhesive. The clobbering is done with a heavy mallet furnished with a thick sealskin face (not pictured).
As you can see here (minus the heavy mallet).
One week later the keys were planed flush using the two planes pictured.
As you can see the Witpeer keys contrasts nicely with the Kershout, much in the same way as the opposite combination works splendidly in the trapeziod leg.
We will get into preparation of the top for finishing in our next riveting edition of this series.
Today it’s easy to make glazed doors and mirror frames by using a router to rabbet a mortise-and-tenon frame after assembly: Cut your joints, glue the frame together, rout the inside edges on the back using a special rabbeting bit, then chop the corners square with a chisel and mallet. Before the invention of the electric router, frames for glazed doors (which include doors with mirrors) were built from rabbeted stock, […]
I do not like doing yard work. We pay to have the lawn mowed and just about any other yard related chore. My wife plants flowers and bushes and I will prune and take care of the lilac bushes. Other than this you couldn't get me do any yard work even if you put a gun to my head. Today I broke that golden rule and trimmed the brushes in the driveway.
|before the haircut|
|90 minutes later|
|this is easy stuff to do|
|Miller Falls on the left and Stanley replacement on the right|
|Miller Falls on the left and a bit from the Yankee|
|Miller Falls in the middle|
|it fits and it is secure in the chuck|
|drilled a hole in the side ok|
|ok drilling in the face|
|end grain not a problem neither|
|it fit in the holder portion of the Miller Falls drill|
|how I lost the first bit|
|cleaned #2 handle and knob|
|met the first goal|
|4th batter sharpened today|
|my new big 8K polishing stone|
|my old 8K polishing stone|
|side by side|
|flattened after each use|
|block plane iron|
|had to use the 80 grit runway|
|couldn't squeeze it in|
Who was Alexander Bain?
answer - a scottish clockmaker who invented the 'fax' machine in 1843
I read most of Nancy R. Hiller’s “Making Things Work: Tales From a Cabinetmaker’s Life” in the laundromat. Our washing machine was broken, parts strewn all over our basement floor while we tried to figure out the problem. Forgive me, as I realize what I’m about to say next is very much a first-world problem, but I missed having a working washing machine. I have three children and we’re thick into the stains of summer: dirt, grass and popsicles. Suddenly, lugging overflowing laundry baskets down our tight basement steps (oh the dreams I have of a first-floor laundry room!) seemed downright luxurious.
But, I was making things work.
I love a good memoir. I tend to overshare (sometimes rather unfortunately) so I deeply respect gritty honesty. We currently live in a world of filtered Instagram posts, our lives made beautiful, easy, golden even, with a few clicks. None of the essays in Nancy’s collection are filtered. She strips away the gloss, highlighting the truths of furniture making. She writes:
“We may do what we love every day, to paraphrase the marketing pitch of a well-known school, but as with most long-term love, ours deepens from the passion of new romance to the mature familiarity of marriage: sometimes tedious, occasionally exasperating, as much taskmaster as muse. Passion, after all, is equally about what we bear as what we embrace.”
Nancy’s tales of jobs, clients (oh, the clients!), living conditions, working conditions, employees, the minutiae of (solo) business-owning and business-running, romance, learning, personal growth, worry and problem-solving allow you to immerse yourself into the life of a talented cabinetmaker who has managed to make a living—and life—out of bettering and beautifying client’s homes with her hands, her skill, her craft.
I thought of Cheryl Strayed’s “Wild” while reading Nancy’s book, everything I’ve read by David Sedaris, and Nick Offerman was exactly right when noting the predicament in how one should shelve Nancy’s book: fine woodworking? Philosophy? Self-help? Etiquette? Religion? For “Making Things Work” is one of those rare reads that could easily be found in anyone’s bookshelf. Woodworker? Must-read. Small-business owner? Must-read. Graduate? Must-read. Artist? Must-read. Feminist? Must-read. Collector of fine, handmade furniture? Must-read.
Maybe it’s because I’m currently immersed in the philosophical writings of the late Charles Hayward, but Nancy manages to do what I believe many woodworkers, in particular, feel but sometimes can’t quite express: the way we work, the way we make things work, speaks greatly about who we are and how we live. Nancy’s anecdotes of a cabinetmaker’s life, her life, speaks to all of that. Because behind all the humor, flaws, talent and grit in each of her essays lies a simple truth: “It’s all problems.” How we approach our problems speaks much more about one’s self than ingenuity. And when problems do arise, we should only be so lucky to have a Nancy at our side during something as small as a tricky installation or as big as a leap of faith—if not in person, then in spirit, in the form of mantras extracted from this book.
Filed under: Making Things Work, Uncategorized
If you missed the June meeting, you missed a lot: a drive into the mountains and seeing more walnut slabs than you’ll see in a lifetime. Guild member Steve Noyes has the vision to look at a tree and know what forms it can take. After our visit to Steve’s place, we left with an understanding of what is involved in obtaining trees, processing them, converting them into usable lumber and, finally, turning that lumber into beautiful furniture.
Steve sees the potential of a log like this
Steve “harvests” trees before they meet the fate of the chipper, often scouting them out in and around the valley. When he spots one he knows will not be long in this life, he waits – sometime years – for that moment when a new home owner or a contractor decides it needs to go. During our meeting, we learned about Steve’s process in a reverse order: first, seeing his shop, then learning how he designs and makes furniture, and finally the process of harvesting and processing the wood.
The Wow Factor
The first thing evident to anyone walking into Steve’s 2,206 sq. ft. shop is that he loves wood, especially walnut. Seeing the lumber and slabs he’s processed is stunning to those accustomed to lumberyard fare.
And there’s more …
and more …
Tools of the trade
From logs to luxury
Whether it’s making desks, counter tops, or chairs, Steve considers all aspects of a piece of wood – the curve of an edge, the nuance of the grain, the color – and seeks to blend those characteristics into an eye-pleasing piece of handmade furniture. While at his shop, we studied the first two of the following forms:
While everybody else was talking slabs, Chris Church and Jeff Dilks were scrutinizing the Maloof joints in the rocker.
Using an unfinished rocker, Steve explained how he created and shaped the joint.
Graceful touches on a finished rocker:
The headrest made out of a beautifully grained piece of walnut root:
And we tried one out:
Steve’s tractor-seat bar stool
And a new version he is working on:
Acquisition and milling
Before darkness settled in, we went outside, and Steve showed us his two mills – the Lucas Mill and the Brand X. We talked about how he acquires trees and the process and expenses involved in taking a tree from its place of origin to a completed piece of furniture.
All in all, a great meeting. Thank you, Steve, for hosting us.
Our last two days of Ripplemania 1 were spent in trying to fine tune the older machine into a real working tool, and tinkering with the design for the new one into a working device.
While John and Travis and I were fiddling with the new machine, Sharon was trying out the new cutter on the old machine. She was able to raise a huge pile of shavings, but the wear between the pattern rail and the follower bar (the rod protruding from the cutter head in order to allow the latter to rise up and down, cutting the ripple pattern in the work piece) was getting too bad to bring about a satisfactory result.
Meanwhile we were trying to perfect the carriage and cutter head for the new machine. In the end we got to within an eyelash of getting a ripple molding to completion, but we definitely had “proof of concept.”
John and Travis fabricated a carriage that was compatible with ripple patterns (up and down), wave patterns (sideways motion), and even a simultaneous ripple/wave action.
In order to test the carriage and cutterhead, we had to have a pattern to work with, so I dove into that undertaking. I was rethinking the need for a metal pattern rail in favor of a wooden one, so I began by assembling a long rail sandwich consisting of southern yellow pine on its length as the outer laminae to serve as the backing for the pattern and bearing surface, with end grain black cherry as the contact surface.
With the pattern rail sandwich assembled it was time to cut the ripple chatter pattern into the rail. Using half round rasps, floats, and carving gouges we were able to create several feet of pattern on the blank sandwich.
I ripped the sandwich on the table saw, resulting in a matched pair to install on either side of the box to induce the pattern on the workpiece via the undulating cutter head. (I will certainly give it a try to have a CNC machine create any new pattern rails).
With the pattern installed, we gave it a try. It sure looked like it was working, but still we had some hurdles to jump in order to make it a reliable high-function machine. Cranking it by hand was interminably slow even though the movement at the point of cutting was fine. We decided to motorize the device to take it to the next level so we attached a motor to a stool and hung a belt around the motor shaft and the pulley we made for the drive screw on the machine. The motion was certainly accelerated without any obvious loss of performance, although there was the issue of an unprotected motor and belt drive.
Travis demanded a protective cowl for the drive unit, so he installed one. We found this to be much safer.
Like I said earlier, in the end we came within an eyelash (or a half day) of getting the new machine to operate with efficacy. Given my continued and growing interest in the capacity to produce ripple moldings for clients I will certainly expend more energy to make it happen.
Many thanks to Phil Sylvester for his suggestion and referral to Larry’s old articles. Larry Williams went through the same dilemma as I have until he saw the lean and that’s why I said his measurements are wrong. I didn’t know about the lean, yes I did view the video several times but somehow the subject of lean passed me by. Now this has opened up a pathway to a successful build, this means that I will have to change all my drawings so I’ll be taking taking those links I posted offline. However, should you wish to use them they will still work as I’ve built a no.16 and it works well. The issue is when you go down in size it gets frustrating. Now I’ve got it finally.
I never got to meet John Brown. Truth be told, I didn’t hear of his name until several years after his death. But I’m starting to feel like I know the man.
My first introduction to John Brown, and to Welsh Stick Chairs, was as I imagine it was for many woodworkers, a blog post Chris wrote. These unusual chairs were nothing like I’d ever seen before – theirs was a dynamic form, suggesting a feral energy coiled within the sticks, waiting to spring out. I was intrigued, but at that time focusing on lutherie, so I mentally filed the chair away for another day. A little over a year later and John Brown was again mentioned on the Lost Art Press blog, this time in the context of his influential, if hard to find, book Welsh Stick Chairs. Then I bought a copy of The Anarchist’s Tool…
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Filed under: Uncategorized