Handcrafted furniture projects and videos

So it is Saturday and my wife is checking Facebook, as normal, and found a chest of drawers. It is an old piece, but because it is painted — and a really bad paint job at that — as a professional furniture maker, anything painted offends me, or tells me someone doesn’t appreciate nice things. In my mind, paint only belongs on walls.
Anyway, the plan was to bring it home and just use it as-is. Well, that went south as soon as we got it in place. She then explained her plan for it and how she was going to use it. In the back of my head, I knew that at some point she was going to ask if I could strip it, and I really dislike stripping paint off furniture. In our discussion, I explained that I would be willing to sand and repaint it with a much better paint job — yes, you just heard me say paint it — but it is already painted, so I am not breaking my first rule.
Now, as I sit and look at it, I am really struggling with myself. Why, you might ask? Well, due to the fact that my whole world revolves around woodworking, furniture, and its assorted styles, the more I study it, the more I know that under this paint is either Bird’s Eye maple or walnut. This style was from the 1920s, and that curve along with the wood grain was all the rage. So the decision was reluctantly made to just strip one drawer, and off to the shop I went.
I got my card scraper out, ran a pass across the drawer front, and — yep — Bird’s Eye maple it is. So now I have a project: bring this 1920s piece back to its former glory.
As I was sanding, I noticed a past repair. As is typical, the drawer box was broken, right at the rabbet for the bottom of the drawer, in a corner break — so the bottom isn’t as secure. Someone had simply taken a piece of wood and nailed it to the bottom so the drawer would slide and look fine. Me? I go hardcore. I took a mallet and, oh so carefully, broke loose the dovetails holding the sides on, then cleaned up the broken edge and glued a piece of wood onto it so I could cut a new dado for the drawer bottom to slide into when I reglued the side piece back on.
After rebuilding the drawers, I will then scrape and sand the rest of the piece.

First, it is worth noting that this is a manufactured piece of furniture, not a custom build. However, if you look at its construction, it is so much better than its modern counterparts. It is all solid wood construction — yes, the Bird’s Eye maple is a veneer, but the core it is glued to is solid pine, not MDF or that compressed sawdust material used in today’s furniture. This piece was also likely made right here in the United States, in North Carolina. I have a blog about the history of High Point and its furniture industry — click the link to read it: The Rise and Fall of North Carolina’s Furniture Industry
The drive to maximize profits by making things more “efficient” — and I am not a big fan of that word — has substantially brought quality down. That is why I do things the old way. My pieces will last centuries, just like this one, and if they ever need attention down the road, they can be repaired rather than replaced.

I have some updates we found out this was built in James Town NY by Atlas Furniture Co. in the 1920 . I have looked on line and these sell in mint condition for around $400 to $800

In a workshop filled with sawdust and strategy, this bench emerged—a fusion of strength and serenity. Crafted from solid oak and rich teak, it carries the weight of Western resilience and the grace of Asian design traditions. This is not just a place to sit. It’s a place to honor.

The bench’s flared legs and clean joinery whisper mid-century clarity, while its proportions and subtle curves nod to Asian architectural elegance—where balance is beauty and restraint is power. Teak, with its deep golden hue and natural oils, brings warmth and endurance. Oak offers grounding. Together, they speak in harmony.

✨ Aesthetic as Philosophy

Asian design isn’t just a style—it’s a worldview. It teaches us that emptiness has meaning, that simplicity is sacred, and that every curve can carry intention. This bench channels that ethos. It invites stillness. It honors space. It resists the noise of excess.

🪑 Built for Legacy

Whether placed in a quiet entryway, a civic gallery, or a home that holds memory, this bench is meant to last. Its joinery is honest. Its materials are noble. Its presence is both protest and poem.

Commissioned pieces are available for those who believe furniture should speak—of heritage, of resistance, of beauty that refuses to be rushed.

Visit my store to order one or commission me to create one with different species of wood.