Cherry wardrobe with Shoji Screen doors. Cherry and Tasmanian Oak dovetailed drawers with carved walnut handles and brass inserts

This is the piece that I have spent the past 6 months working on.

Much time was spent on the design and how I envisioned this to be. I wanted this to be modular and able to change configurations, yet still be beautiful as a collective.

There are 3 separate pieces to this unit. A large one for hanging clothes with 3 accessories drawers. A mid sized one consisting of 12 drawers, and a small unit for additional storage.

Hand planing each board and joining them together by hand took a considerable amount of time. But I had to make sure they all look pleasing as well as are stable before moving on to the joinery.

The shoji screen doors too some time to get right. It was a tedious affair of tiny tenons and mortises. They needed to fit snuggly yet have just enough space for expansion and timber movement.

The rest of the time was spent on cutting the countless number of dovetails, carving the handles and eventually fitting the drawers. 

This is the largest piece I have ever built and I am so proud of it. I amaze myself at what I can make from this tiny space I have and this pushes me ahead to greater achievements to come.

pasek & paul: we pitched the weirdest idea for a musical 

me, looking up from where i’m seated in the literal middle of a theater-large stage while an anachronistic electro-pop opera of leo tolstoy’s war and peace is being performed with thirty seven genres of music beautifully dovetailed into a seamless production that shows the greatest depiction of the realities of searching for love & meaning when you don’t know what love & meaning are, taking centuries old words and abstract concepts and making them visceral enough for you to follow every word and sob like an infant is playing: what 


I fitted a kuchi ire sliding dovetail pin in my swedish steel plane. Now the mouth of my plane has an opening of around 0.4mm, allowing me to plane rather complicated grain. I made the kuchi ire of Makassar, for lack of anything else :)
The surface this plane now leaves is nearly glass like and absolutely clean!
Love it :)

dovetail-17  asked:

Did you hear that Kubo-sensei telling that the guy who appears with Chris looks like "Masumi-san" (no name till now btw), and the name caught on and the ship name that the fandom has created for him and Chris is "Christmas"? Its so good !

Yes I saw about that on twitter and laughing so much. What an epic ship name. This fandom I swear <3

Man of Steel changed the way I look at movies, not just superhero movies, but movies in general. It gave me the Superman I’d wanted to see since childhood. A Superman that I not only related to, but could really look up to. He wasn’t just a grinning boy scout with little character depth, he was a Superman.
In a movie that had heart and soul. A movie with pain and love, dark and light. A villain that really felt scary and I couldn’t predict how it was going to end.

And it gave me hope. Not just in my personal life, as I’ve discussed before, but it gave me hope in art. Movies as art. Superhero movies didn’t need to be high-saturated, popcorn movies with nice, neat, closed plots. They could be big, epic, meaningful artistic narratives! Something that reflected how important the mythology of superheroes is to the fans.

And then Batman V Superman came out and enriched everything that Man of Steel established. It built on the foundations and not only gave us a universe where Batman and Wonder Woman can fight alongside Superman, but it gave us some understanding of WHY these heroes do what they do and why they are teaming up. We saw Wonder Woman get slowly dragged back into heroism, and we knew why. She didn’t just suddenly, inexplicably drop out of nowhere onto the roof of a jet and start beating up another hero with absolutely no explanation. She hesitated, she fought her instincts and tried to be impartial, but the hero in her wouldn’t let her. And let’s not get into the extraordinary depth of character and development of Batman in this movie. Because that’s an essay into itself.
And then we saw the sacrifice of the hero who started all this. Whose sacrifice inspired these weathered, wary heroes into action again.
What a beautiful way to end a movie but start another! The dovetailing of this writing is genius.

After this we got Suicide Squad. A bit of a frantic, hectic, off-kilter movie about villains. It did a lot for world building, but most importantly it showed us what kind of people our heroes have faced before, and will face again. It showed us how strong and capable the villains can be, and this added so much to this universe that it is an invaluable movie.

Now, we have Wonder Woman! Adding more exposition to Diana’s motives in the modern day, this beautifully layered movie provided us with the first Wonder Woman movie, and yet but another incredible chapter to the DCEU. Never losing track of the themes and ideals of the shared universe, but maintaining its own unique voice, this movie delivered the finest superhero origin movie to date. While I still personally feel that it shares the stage with Man of Steel in terms of quality, it stands out on its own merits, because it is the first Wonder Woman movie, the first Wonder Woman origin story on the big screen and the first time a superhero movie has had such widespread, universal appeal.
It still considered the sense of realism established in the previous movies, showing the reality of war, a hero that will put the needs of others above her own and it kept a sense of doubt and confusion in the face of responsibility.

These movies have all been amazing in their own ways, and stand out as their own entities whilst keeping the universe cohesive. No other franchise has done this yet.

And it’s far from over.

This November, we get to see another huge milestone as Justice League hits the big screen. And I for one can not wait to see how this builds on what we’ve seen so far, and what will be built upon it.

It is a phenomenal time to be a DC fan, but it’s also a great time to be a movie fan and a superhero fan, too.

Bring it on.

We simultaneously portray these rival countries as …

1) rapidly militarizing, unstable supervillains who must be dealt with swiftly, but also

2) inept buffoons with a far inferior military whom the U.S. would crush instantly in any action.

These two somehow-not-conflicting notions then dovetail perfectly to help us both justify a war and make said war seem super easy and winnable. It’s really a perfect propaganda tool for our military – citizens are not gonna rush to enlist for some war where it sounds like they’ll definitely be killed. But do you actually feel “afraid” of Kim Jong-un at all? Don’t you feel like, 70 percent sure you could take him in an arm wrestling match or a game of darts, even though you definitively suck at both? Why do you suppose that is?

Take this New York Post headline. Piggyback rides! North Korea looks like some new CBS Hogan’s Heroes reboot that’s now called HOGAN and somehow features no Asian actors. And sure, The Post is a tabloid that can squeeze a full goofy article out of “Guy kind of looks like he’s on another guy,” but consider these other North Korea headlines it printed this month alone.

North Korea is a credible threat that’s hellbent on destroying the U.S. and its Pacific allies, but fortunately, it also consists of a bunch of piggyback-riding children playing dress-up who we’ll crush in eight seconds as soon as we’re finally like “fiiiine” and get around to doing it.

This same pattern was extremely evident in the lead-up to the Iraq War.

How Our Military Uses The News As Marketing For Recruitment


For the first time in the 125 years of Vogue’s existence—an anniversary we start celebrating this month—we’ve crafted a portfolio featuring solely the women of the fashion world. What better way to recognize not only their contributions to how we get dressed every day, but how their interests and concerns, their hopes and joys and fears, dovetail with our own? We spoke to them about their backgrounds, their careers—and their spring 2017 collections, yes—but also about how they felt about our world right now. 

Read the story.


A couple of illustrations for @dubsdeedubs‘s fic, A Thousand Natural Shocks, a fic that started out as a different take on @notllorstel‘s Neverhuman AU, but went off in its own direction (it’s not “never-human”, for one thing); for that reason, I totally used notllorstel’s design for Six-Sights Stan, here.  Also written/plotted before the finale, so it goes in a different direction.  (But there is also now an AU that does this AU’s version of Weirdmageddon, “A Diverging in the Wood”.)

(Please click to see these at full size, where they look a lot better.)

I was going to post quotes for these moments, but really, it’s better not to take those parts out of context.  While I hate to have spoiled the fic in any way, if you haven’t read it and this makes you want to go read it, I’ll consider it a job well done.  (Then you can also read @trustme-im-a-pirate‘s Shermaine Pines AU, which dovetails with this one.)

Thanks for everything, Dubs; and happy belated birthday. ;-)


@dovetail-17 A set of savage Victor, at your request. :D I’m not sure what it says about me that I was able to pinpoint all the scenes I wanted to use before I even started getting the clips together.

A quick thought on savage Victor, for him this kind of aggression is actually how he shows his anger and annoyance. Victor is just as human as anyone else and, as much as he’s put up on a pedestal for the first while, he can absolutely feel frustration with his situation (and with Yuuri, the (un)fortunate recipient of most of Victor’s attentions in the first few weeks when he’s settling into Japan). The upside though is that being an adult, Victor has learned to walk away from situations that he’s feeling truly angry about (see: ep 5 slamming the skate guards down and walking away) and thus the most actual anger we get towards other people is arguably quite tame compared to what it could be.

As your bonus, take a moment where most of the savagery is left off-screen (if you consider Victor stretching Yuuri’s leg above his head in a moment of frustration to be off-screen that is):

kemmlerthekitschmaster  asked:

Can you elaborate more on how the Alys-Sigorn wedding was awesome and its like a baby that conquered the world? I just really like Alys/Sigorn and want to hear more about it.

Whew, where to begin? The Alys-Sigorn wedding is IMO a strong candidate for “best scene in the series,” and it’s probably exhibit A in the case for ADWD as the best book in that series (give or take Dany X and the dragontaming). It’s the surest sign that GRRM still knows what he’s doing and that the sedimentary layers of story are producing more powerful moments as he goes. It’s such a narratively dense event with so many resonances that you could spend days teasing it apart. Here’s just a brief overview.  

At one level, the wedding symbolizes and enacts the alliance between the Stark North and the Free Folk, presided over by the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch (himself having been raised in Winterfell, but also having ridden with the wildlings). It’s very ceremonial and ritualistic, GRRM taking his time setting it up and lingering on every detail so you really get what a momentous deal this is: a powerful wildling leader and the daughter of a significant Northern house joining to forge something new. This carries such weight with us because we’ve been living with this bitter divide and the knowledge of how longstanding and entrenched it is for multiple books. Climbing this hill seemed nigh-impossible back in ASOS when Stannis proposed it; now, we see a real ray of hope. And of course, this dovetails so beautifully with what happens at chapter’s end: the horn blast announcing Tormund Giantsbane’s arrival to cement that pact. 

This sense of harmonic resolution wouldn’t mean much, though, if it didn’t also extend to the bride and groom specifically. Alys coming to Jon (specifically as Ned’s son) and securing his help against Cregan and Arnolf marks a symbolic reconciliation between Houses Stark and Karstark. Instead of the latter house as an enemy, as they’ve been since early in ASOS, we now see them as a complex family riven by internal conflict, and there’s a chance to set things right. It helps, of course, that Alys is immediately one of the most lovable characters in the story: “Let him be scared of me.” As for Sigorn, his father died at Castle Black thanks to Jon’s defenses, and earlier in ADWD, Sigorn himself opposed assimilation to the point of threatening Jon’s life. Here, however, he brings the Thenns into the larger realm and makes a very moving peace–and of course he, too, is written to encourage empathy in the wedding scene, coming off nervous, awkward, and ultimately good-hearted. 

But what really makes this scene shine, undergirding and emphasizing all of the above, is the imagery. It…glows. 

And Melisandre said, “Let them come forth, who would be joined.” The flames cast her shadow on the Wall behind her, and her ruby gleamed against the paleness of her throat.

Jon turned to Alys Karstark. “My lady. Are you ready?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

“You’re not scared?”

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.”The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.

“Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand.

The Magnar of Thenn stood waiting by the fire, clad as if for battle, in fur and leather and bronze scales, a bronze sword at his hip. His receding hair made him look older than his years, but as he turned to watch his bride approach, Jon could see the boy in him. His eyes were big as walnuts, though whether it was the fire, the priestess, or the woman that had put the fear in him Jon could not say. Alys was more right than she knew.

“Who brings this woman to be wed?” asked Melisandre.

“I do,” said Jon. “Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth.” He gave her hand one last squeeze and stepped back to join the others.

“Who comes forth to claim this woman?” asked Melisandre.

“Me.” Sigorn slapped his chest. “Magnar of Thenn.”

“Sigorn,” asked Melisandre, “will you share your fire with Alys, and warm her when the night is dark and full of terrors?”

“I swear me.” The Magnar’s promise was a white cloud in the air. Snow dappled his shoulders. His ears were red. “By the red god’s flames, I warm her all her days.”

“Alys, do you swear to share your fire with Sigorn, and warm him when the night is dark and full of terrors?”

“Till his blood is boiling.” Her maiden’s cloak was the black wool of the Night’s Watch. The Karstark sunburst sewn on its back was made of the same white fur that lined it.

Melisandre’s eyes shone as bright as the ruby at her throat. “Then come to me and be as one.” As she beckoned, a wall of flames roared upward, licking at the snowflakes with hot orange tongues. Alys Karstark took her Magnar by the hand.

Side by side they leapt the ditch.

“Two went into the flames.” A gust of wind lifted the red woman’s scarlet skirts till she pressed them down again. “One emerges.” Her coppery hair danced about her head. “What fire joins, none may put asunder.”

This is hope rendered in radiant red and gold; this is what endgame looks like. We saw it, just a flash of it, as their leap (like Theon and Jeyne’s, several chapters later) reached its apex. This leap over the flames and everything that goes with it exists in defiance of the Long Night, in spite of the army of the dead. It’s a fire to circle around, a well from which to draw strength, and a foundation for what comes next. House Thenn’s sigil is appropriate; they represent the Dawn.

I hated reading until...

“Father, I want to study law.”

I told him during dinner when I arrived from work. I embraced him when I assisted him to stand up because he couldn’t stand alone. I sort of succumbed to the enormousness of my thoughts. How on earth had this been possible? I didn’t know, the evening seemed to be as uncertain and as deep as my feelings. And so I did a little retroactive activity.

I remembered sixteen years ago I was ten. I didn’t know libraries exist. I wasn’t a fan of reading books. I was more of an outside kid. Although I liked going to school, I’d always look forward to trot into our home and change clothes to play games with friends and hunt bugs by catapulting stones into highrising trees in the neighborhood. When bugs plummeted from a towering tree behind the blazing sunlight, everyone got exhilirated.

I’d always hear my father reminding me to read books, but due to the inundating demands from outside home I must say I liked going outside more.. my father was persistent..he would remind me over and over again.

Once, I was helping my mother cook our lunch and I was called by my father. He was holding a thick old book. I supposed he was reading it, because there was a bookmark clasped in it. I was panting deep inside. Agitating thoughts flowed in my head in every inexplicable way. I sat down and waited. He asked me to pick up a science encyclopedia and read it aloud. And so I acquiesced. I was perspiring because when he opened the book and asked me to read, I didn’t know how to pronounce “fungi.” I would say it as is. Like “fuunngiii.”

My father got angry, and I was deeply quiet. Back then I didn’t particularly discern why he acted like that. I would always regard reading as a chore and I just couldn’t help but cry. If only I could play outside like I always do, I told myself.

Months passed and my father went busy supervising his vegetable business. And of course I continued playing and playing until I got tired. My friends got tired too. I guessed some things were bound to wane and fade away. I resorted to my instinct, I realized that I didn’t want to be reminded by my father anymore. I had a tiny paradigm shift and picked up a book because I got bored playing. The antique book didn’t have a cover, but I was fascinated by the sheer old smell of it, and the brownish stain that embraced it. And so I opened it and I started reading. I read it aloud alone chapter by chapter, and finished it. It was the start of everything. I finally needed nobody to tell me to read.

My father saw me and he kept working and years have passed I read classics and finished college with a degree in Literature. And I still couldn’t stop reading. I’m just in love with words.

Right now, he’s watching TV while playing Candy Crush in his tablet, it’s been his rapertoire since the day he got stroke. I’d always remind him to take his meds, I’d provide for him and I love him so much. I thank him because he gave me this gift that will never tarnish: the unending love for books…

When I told him that I wanted to study law, he couldn’t say a word.. All he did was to cry, and so everything had dovetailed to me..and I realized why he got angry when I pronounced the word “fungi” as is.