GEEZER MONSTER.

Building a front door.
Of everything I do, this is the job that eats at me the most. The kind of work that gives me insomnia and takes me to the edge of depression, ha.
It looks simple, but it demands delicate, fussy work, it has to be airtight, and it has to be accurate to the millimeter.
This time I am using Hokkaido yachidamo, Japanese ash.
The section that takes the small daylight window is jointed at 45 degrees. That turned out far harder than I expected. Or maybe I am just no good at it.

I think the grain came together beautifully.

The rubber gasket on the interior side seated cleanly as well. On top of this one, there is another rubber on the door stop side, a double gasket to hold the airtightness.

Carried it to the site and hung it. Unbelievably heavy. A brutal job.

This diagonal joinery pattern is called a chevron.
Some people look at this pattern and feel something they cannot quite name.
They say the first pattern the human hand ever carved was the zigzag.
In ancient Egypt it became the sign for water.
On the plains of Nazca it was drawn as a prayer to call the rain.
In Northern Europe it is the shape of the rafters that hold up the roof.
The Ainu placed it at the cuffs of their robes, to close the doorway that evil things use.
Native Americans wove it into blankets as lightning,
and the stonemasons laid the compasses over the square, and set upon that mark an all seeing eye.
East or West, people have always trusted this shape to protect them.
An entrance is the place where everything passes in and out.
So this door wears that emblem facing outward, with a single diamond window opened like an eye.
A guardian for the house, made from Hokkaido yachidamo.
I named it the Chevron Door.
And the insulation performance is world class too, if I do say so myself.

Inside, no protection is needed, so it stays plain vertical boards that say nothing at all.
The interior side is cleaner this way, and I think that is how it should be.

I got home and a huge cardboard box had been delivered.
I had no memory of buying anything that big, so I muttered, what on earth is this.
My wife said, isn’t that your BABYMONSTER stuff. In a voice that was 100 percent fed up.
A pile of live tour merch had arrived.
Is there a law against
a64 year old geezer stanning BABYMONSTER? (lol)

Whatever anyone thinks of me, the ones who lived how they wanted are the winners in life.