The Girl Living In My Mind

aharte:

There is a girl living in my mind
She has lived there forever
And she never goes to sleep.
Sometimes
She can be unkind
She hurts me with her words
And she causes me to weep,
There is a girl living in my mind
She says that she will never leave
I know she hates me now
She likes to watch me hurt and…

Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

from Tennyson’s Ulysses (1833). (via oakapples)

innerbohemienne:

This is a thing of beauty - the vintage 19th-century tool chest of master carpenter and free & accepted mason H.O. Studley. If the workmanship in the tool chest is any indication of the maker’s talent, then the craftsmanship of Studley must have been a wonder to behold. Massachusetts piano maker Henry Studley built his magnificent tool chest over the course of a 30-year career at the Poole Piano Company. The chest lived on the wall near his workbench, and he worked on it regularly, making changes and adding new tools as he acquired them. Using ebony, mother-of-pearl, ivory, rosewood, and mahogany — all materials used in the manufacture of pianos — he refined the chest to the point that now, more than 80 years after his death, it remains in a class of its own.
Packing more tools per square foot than seems physically possible, piano maker Henry Studley’s unrivaled tool chest also manages to be beautiful in the process. The chest stands as perhaps the most exquisite example of 19th-century tool-chest craftsmanship.
Considering how many tools it holds, the famous chest is really quite small; when closed, it is just 9 in. deep, 39 in. high, and just more than 18 in. wide. Yet it houses so many tools - some 300 - so densely packed that three strong men strain to lift it.
             
For every tool, Studley fashioned a holder to keep it in place and to showcase it. Miniature wrenches, handmade saws, and some still unidentified piano-making tools each have intricate inlaid holders. Tiny clasps rotate out of the way so a tool can be removed. Almost lost among the tools but no longer obscure to history, the name of the maker, H. O. Studley, and his Massachusetts hometown of Quincy are engraved on small plates just above his brace. Scraps of ebony, ivory, rosewood, and mother-of-pearl left over from his work as a piano maker gave Studley raw material for his tool chest and many of the tools it contains. In places the clearances are so tight that the tools nearly touch. The chest, which hangs on ledgers secured to a wall, folds closed like a book. And as the chest is closed, tools protruding from the left side nestle into spaces between tools on the right side. Amazingly, despite being so densely packed, the tools are all easily accessible.
Studley was well into his 80s when he retired from the piano company. Before he died in 1925, Studley gave the tool chest to a friend. That man’s grandson, Peter Hardwick, loaned the chest to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C. in the late 1980s and later sold it to a private collector in the Midwest. That owner again sold the tool chest to another private collector, where it now resides.
* From Fine Woodworking

innerbohemienne:

This is a thing of beauty - the vintage 19th-century tool chest of master carpenter and free & accepted mason H.O. Studley. If the workmanship in the tool chest is any indication of the maker’s talent, then the craftsmanship of Studley must have been a wonder to behold. Massachusetts piano maker Henry Studley built his magnificent tool chest over the course of a 30-year career at the Poole Piano Company. The chest lived on the wall near his workbench, and he worked on it regularly, making changes and adding new tools as he acquired them. Using ebony, mother-of-pearl, ivory, rosewood, and mahogany — all materials used in the manufacture of pianos — he refined the chest to the point that now, more than 80 years after his death, it remains in a class of its own.

Packing more tools per square foot than seems physically possible, piano maker Henry Studley’s unrivaled tool chest also manages to be beautiful in the process. The chest stands as perhaps the most exquisite example of 19th-century tool-chest craftsmanship.

Considering how many tools it holds, the famous chest is really quite small; when closed, it is just 9 in. deep, 39 in. high, and just more than 18 in. wide. Yet it houses so many tools - some 300 - so densely packed that three strong men strain to lift it.

            

For every tool, Studley fashioned a holder to keep it in place and to showcase it. Miniature wrenches, handmade saws, and some still unidentified piano-making tools each have intricate inlaid holders. Tiny clasps rotate out of the way so a tool can be removed. Almost lost among the tools but no longer obscure to history, the name of the maker, H. O. Studley, and his Massachusetts hometown of Quincy are engraved on small plates just above his brace. Scraps of ebony, ivory, rosewood, and mother-of-pearl left over from his work as a piano maker gave Studley raw material for his tool chest and many of the tools it contains. In places the clearances are so tight that the tools nearly touch. The chest, which hangs on ledgers secured to a wall, folds closed like a book. And as the chest is closed, tools protruding from the left side nestle into spaces between tools on the right side. Amazingly, despite being so densely packed, the tools are all easily accessible.

Studley was well into his 80s when he retired from the piano company. Before he died in 1925, Studley gave the tool chest to a friend. That man’s grandson, Peter Hardwick, loaned the chest to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C. in the late 1980s and later sold it to a private collector in the Midwest. That owner again sold the tool chest to another private collector, where it now resides.

* From Fine Woodworking

A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.

John Augustus Shedd