17 July 2022

The name for this piece— Threshold— comes from the fact that this table is indeed made out of a door (pun very much intended), but also because it marks an important point in my journey toward finding some grace in the unpredictability of creating and unlearning narratives I have about myself and what I make. I, of course, grapple with all those predictable insecurities/challenges that are (from what I can tell) somewhat universal among artists, but also some that are particular to my experience of having always desired to express myself creatively and never quite finding/honing a craft that felt right. This one finally feels right, and so, cue the wounded inner dialogue about being ‘too late’ ‘too unskilled’ and ‘too slow-paced’ to do the things I am feeling called to do. But thanks to this project, I’ve had some opportunities to practice holding things a bit more loosely. The beautiful friends who commissioned this piece have been so encouraging of my inclination to reclaim and repurpose materials... and they offered me one hell of a project to cut my teeth on!

They recently added a beautiful addition to their home and offered up a bunch of salvaged doors, tiles, windows, hardwood, etc from their renovation for me to use for BADC and/or a future tiny house (!) When we strolled around under the house one afternoon to have a look at the materials, the seed for this tiled table was planted. I had done a few carpentry projects with Skrumf (including a dining table and bench with a similar design), so I started things off feeling relatively capable of  accomplishing this build on my own (Ha!) Little did I know I was embarking on what turned out to be a three month practice in clumsily tumbling along learning curves, accepting imperfection, easing rigidity, asking for help, and finding grace in humour.

So, off I went. The first stage was picking up the door, which was brimming with character… and about 10 layers of paint from decades of life as a door. A couple bottles of Citristrip (non-toxic paint stripper) was the first ‘unavoidable’ purchase of new materials from the hardware store. As part of my business model (and general life model for that matter), I try to put some thought and effort into finding non-new and non-toxic materials whenever possible, but this project had a few things to teach me about the grey area of making ‘earth-conscious’ choices, the allure of convenience, and the necessity of flexibility when something goes wrong.

Once the door was prepped, I sensed that the thin panel where the tiles would sit might need some reinforcements to hold the added weight, so I attached some bracing using slats from our old/broken IKEA bed frame and got to practice my pocket hole skills. A lucky scrolling session on Gumtree lead me to a post for free adhesive and grout. I headed out to Burbank (made a stop at the Underwood Demo Market on the way) and headed home with a backseat full of free tiling supplies from a lovely woman named Carolyn . Carolyn also told me about FreeCycle, which touts itself as ‘the largest online recycling and reuse network on the planet’ — yes, please!

I knew little to nothing about tiles before this, but had a few encounters of them popping up or buckling when there are significant changes in the weather— particularly on tiles attached directly to wood. I did a little research to see if there was a way to prevent that from happening and low and behold, I reached the next stop on my learning curve — fibre cement board (or “fibro” as the tradies call it). I got very excited when I found a sheet for sale on Gumtree, but then learned that it comes in different thicknesses. I needed to find the thinnest one (4mm) so the tiles would sit relatively flush with the door frame. I scouted out Underwood Demo Market for a reclaimed piece while I was there, but had no luck. So, that prompted my second new-materials purchase for this project…

In the meantime, I went around to my friends’ place to collect the hardwood that would be used for the table base. Instead, I got a wonderful chat, some delicious food, an appreciation for how much time it takes to actually measure and cut things, and the importance of a PLAN… I went home and finally drew up what I had in my head, got some calculations sorted, and went around with Skrumf one weekend to cut up the reclaimed hardwood to build the legs.

When pocket holes were not working for assembling the legs, I knew another trip to the hardware store was in my future… are you starting to sense a pattern yet? This time it was for a long-enough screw to hold together the pieces of the legs. I found some really long 150mm (6 inch) screws that were marketed for ‘outdoor furniture’ so I was in business. After some trial and error (and the company of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Gathering Moss on audiobook), it was really satisfying to get some sturdy, level legs assembled (proud achievement)! Next, I would need to source another piece of hardwood to create an apron that would stabilise the base. I found a beautifully aged beam on Gumtree and drove over to Herston to buy it for $30. The man I bought it off of kindly allowed me to cut the beam in half in his driveway (thank you, cordless circular saw), helped me load the two pieces into my car, and off I went.

Then the true test of perseverance came…. in attaching the legs to the beam. The screws I mentioned previously— the 150mm ones— were supposedly ‘self-drilling’. I had a little bit of a fight screwing them into the legs, but ultimately they worked without drilling pilot holes….  After breaking two screws in the support beam, watching the beam pivot around on its axis (!), and then spraining my finger trying to hold the drill steady, I finally determined that ‘self drilling’ doesn’t actually mean you don’t have to drill a pilot hole… learning curve, remember? While I was researching how to remove broken screws from wood (attaching the drill and slowly reversing out/ unscrewing with locking pliers were the two best bets) and mustering up another plan for attaching the beam, I spent some time priming and painting the table legs in Artisan Chalk Paint— Noir (Oui, ça s’appelle noir!) That small win gave me enough gumption to go out and buy a long enough drill bit to create some space for the mammoth screws.

And then… after that fourth trip to the hardware store… I finally asked for help… yes, finally! Once Skrumf got involved it became clear that attaching the beam had been a 4 handed job all along. We re-cut the beam to get it as flush to the legs as we could (this was hard to achieve with a circular saw that didn’t reach through the width of the wood, but … we did our best). Once the legs and beam were connected I got a rush of excitement and motivation to get this beauty across the line. I dove into assembling the top aprons (again using pine from the broken IKEA bed) and attaching the table top (while listening to Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Wherever You Go, There You Are on audiobook to help keep things in perspective ;) ). I added a coat of food-safe water based varnish over the Noir paint and raw wood to offer some protection from the elements.

Second to last, but certainly not least, was the tiling. I finally got to play with that adhesive and grout that I picked up from Carolyn way back when. I had never tiled anything before (as long as you don’t count a few basic attempts at mosaic), so I watched half a dozen Youtube videos and off I went to the hardware store for what I thought would be my last trip. I picked up a couple grouting tools and some tile and grout sealer to protect the natural tiles from being stained by the dark grout (and to seal the whole thing in the end). The adhesive went off without a hitch and the amount in the bag was exactly enough to get the tiles attached. I waited 24 hours like the adhesive package said to and then dove into the grout. Then I hit another bump in the road, which was that… I used too much water and had to compensate with some of the other grouts which turned the black grout grey (how fitting!) Seeing as grout is a time-sensitive task, I just used what I had mixed and figured I could always go over top with another layer of black grout. And that’s exactly what I ended up doing. I went for my fifth and final trip to the hardware store and got myself a tube of pre-mixed black grout (no messing around this time) and filled in the gaps so the grout was crisp, black, and flush with the top edge of the tile.

Last but not least, I sprayed some more tile and grout sealer over the whole thing and let it cure for a few days! About a week later, my friends came around and picked up their table and despite a little bit of wobble in the legs, which will get sorted out in the coming weeks, it’s (back) at its home in Wavell Heights to be gathered around with good food, good coffee, good books, and good company as it starts its next chapter.

So, as you can see, this project brought up some interesting points of reflection: gaining more appreciation for the skills required to build using reclaimed materials, asking for help when/*before* I need it, noticing how ‘dependent’ I got on trips to the hardware store when I was in a pickle, and also considering the environmental impact of my trips to collect used materials. Although this table was certainly made with the earth in mind, it feels important to share the difficulties I encountered in trying to limit my use of new and/or toxic materials to create it — both in the interest of transparency and perhaps to prompt some conversation around how sometimes our best intentions get hi-jacked when we’re trying to choose alternatives in this clunky and complicated era we’re living in. I expect that some of these bumps will be easier for me to navigate or avoid as I continue down this road, but for now, I feel a threshold has been crossed and I am taking closer notice of the things I tell myself about myself and how things ‘should’ or ‘could’ or ‘would’ be done, if only…