A Dining Table Console

For years, we’ve have our dining table butted up against the wall instead of the more common center-of-the-room position. This saves us circulation space while still accommodating seating for 4, and in a pinch 5. This has worked well, the mission of the furniture being essentially that of the classic “kitchen table”, a spot for casual meals, reading the newspaper over breakfast, or having family meetings. I’ve always felt the arrangement was a bit clumsy. 

 This “table console” seems to do the trick of visually connecting the table to the wall, in much the same way as a fireplace mantel centers a room.  It adds a new display place for art, and a convenient outlet for appliances and charging cables. After several iterations of the design, this is what I came up with:

Leaving a notch in the supporting plinth allows a tablecloth to slip past and drop behind. Even though the table is not mechanically linked to the console, the “reveal” links them with a bit of negative space.  This has emerged as the perfect spot to leave our devices for re-charging. We seem to use the table more frequently now for iPad and computer work in general. 

Construction notes

The shelf is a running parquet of oak flooring strips, trimmed out in curly maple, echoing the tabletop I made a few years back. The plinth is a box of rescued 1/2 and 3/4 inch plywood mounted to the wall with a French cleat. I got the combination AC power and “Lightning” connector outlet from a source online for about $15. 

Before. The chair rail of 3 step suggested a place to insert a new display shelf, and perhaps a more elegant way to plug in the toaster.

"Bricolage" Mission-style Floor Lamps

I made the base for this lamp twice, after many months of thinking and slowly acquiring the parts. I still made many errors of craftsmanship of the first version.  I finally placed it on a square base, perhaps 14" x 14". It was clumsy and, even at that size was unstable on the carpeted floor. After living with it a few months, it occured to me to redo the base in the same vocabulary of 3/4"x3/4" sticks whch could be splayed out further (more stable) and yet presented less mass.

Later, I made a painted version, with far simpler construction. Both contain a copper tube that houses the lamp wire.

Enchanted objects

Would it not be fair to say that an integrated circuit, which contains, at tiny scale, a specific structure and function capable of endlessly variable, yet meaningful outputs, is an enchanted crystal. 

What is a meaningful thing?

A work of art, generally speaking, is an enchantment of a physical object. It attempts to tell a story, or make reference to something beyond. Paint splashes on canvas stand for the sunrise. The carving represents the bird. 

Words have meaning. They are symbols, and as such can represent things others than themselves: intentions, plans, stories. When we speak words into a thing, are we not enchanting it? If we share the the language.

Objects, like chairs, tables and shelves are typically seen as functional, not symbolic. But, when this table is made of wood reclaimed from grandfathers fishing boat, or that is the very chair mother sat in the night before I was born, they prompt us to tell our stories. The mute objects are enchanted, and in turn enchant those listening. 

The chair can be metaphor for the body, a table the extension of my lap. When the references are shareable, signs, they are semiotic. Their meanings can be shared within a culture. 

Could this bookshelf be a metaphor for a marriage? 
Why not? 
It carries stories. It sturdily contains a masculine and feminine end.  


As we live with the most utilitarian, un-metaphoric objects, they acquire layers of referential, personal meaning. 
The silver spoon Mom fed me with. 
The wedding dress. 

The made thing can tell stories, recall the past. When the signs emerge from the same culture, the meanings of the objects can be shared was well.

This shelf holds our favorite books.

The books are already dense with meaning because we have read them.

Can the shelf reflect that? ...be covered with signs?

What does it take for the shelf to become a work of art?

The material can tell its own story. The story of the tree. 

It can take the form of another object. The electric lamp can recall a torch, the shelf can suggest a body part, or a building.

It can be signed by the maker.

It can be a “picture”, or  “book” itself.