From My Workshop to the Office
Today is one of my most intricate projects to date: building a set of custom office cabinets for a client in Evergreen, Colorado. This isn’t just any storage solution; it’s a piece of functional art, designed to feature patinaed copper inlays and a stunning live-edge walnut top hand-inlaid with ebony bow ties.
The journey began when all the materials were delivered to my shop. The massive Walnut live-edge slabs immediately demanded my attention, taking up so much room that my first order of business was to break them down to a more manageable size with my chainsaw.
Noticing significant warping, I knew I had to flatten them. I set up a router sled, meticulously planing the slabs down to their final, uniform thickness. To achieve the necessary depth for the countertop, I sourced a second slab from the same tree to ensure a perfect grain and color match. I spent considerable time laying the two pieces side-by-side, carefully selecting the seam where the grain would blend most naturally.
Worried about crushing the live edges with clamp pressure, I opted for glue blocks to pull the seam tight without damage. Then came the art of inlaying the bow ties. I spent a peaceful few hours laying out and hand-cutting the ebony bow ties, chiseling them in to stabilize the slab and add a beautiful detail.
With the top taking shape, I turned my attention to the cabinet carcasses. I milled walnut for the face frames, setting up stops on my tools to ensure every piece was identical. For this project, the client needed to hide office equipment like a printer, so instead of building individual boxes, I designed three large cases with internal dividers to maximize space, which is why the face frames have three distinct openings.
My joinery method of choice was floating tenons, using a Domino machine to quickly and accurately cut the mortises. After gluing up the face frames, I moved on to the less glamorous but critical task of cutting dados to house the plywood dividers, sides, tops, and bottoms.
I’ll admit, I dread handling heavy sheets of modern plywood; its thin veneer is unforgiving, and a single scratch is a disaster. With care, I rough-cut the cabinet parts. For the toe kick, I set up a stop block on my bandsaw for consistency. For the adjustable shelves, I used a shop-made jig to router out perfectly aligned holes for the shelf pins.
Every joint mattered. For the web frames that would add stability for file drawers, I used a simple tongue-and-groove joint, pre-assembling them for strength. To hide the soft-close drawer hardware, I built an interface frame that would create a clean, seamless look once installed.
Assembly of the large cases was a careful dance. I glued them up in sections, starting with the bottom and face frame, then adding the sides and checking for squareness repeatedly. One unique challenge was a furnace vent on the floor. For that cabinet, I couldn’t just block it; I engineered a custom toe kick with an integrated vent, ripping thin strips and cutting half-laps to create a functional and surprisingly beautiful grille.
Then, it was time for the doors. Knowing I would be inlaying copper, I needed to minimize wood movement. My solution was to resaw walnut veneer and press it onto a plywood substrate using a vacuum bag. For the frames, I milled more walnut, using a dado stack to cut centered grooves for the panels.
The copper work felt like a science experiment. I started by sandblasting each piece inside a large garbage bag—a makeshift but effective containment system. After thorough research and taking every safety precaution, I mixed chemicals to create a patina. I used a mesh pattern and potash to etch the copper, then boiled the pieces in a solution of cupric sulfate and a special “Japanese rusty salt” I had prepared a week prior. The result was a unique, vibrant coloration on each piece.
I then milled mullions and routed a shallow rabbet to lap over the edge of the copper. Assembling the grid on the door was a painstaking process, gluing down each piece of copper and wood. I used the vacuum bag again for even pressure, protecting the delicate patina with hardboard.
The final stretch involved building the drawer boxes, routing dovetails, and cutting dados. For the file drawers, I added special notches for hanging hardware and crafted a clever sliding stop to prevent folders from sliding to the back when the drawer isn’t full.
Finally, after installing the hinges and soft-close mechanisms, the project was complete. I loaded up the truck and headed to the client’s office, ready to install a piece I was truly proud to have built from the ground up.


























