There was nowhere to hang our coat in our new place on Prospect Park West.

*The Knob A 4.5″ diameter disc with a 0.5″ laser cutting of the same pine wood; the cylindrical base anchors the endeavor to the wall. Sanded and coated in polyurethane, the dawn slipped in to seal the deal.
After enough days at the screen the hands start asking. There is no thesis attached. Just the want of something to hold that isn't a phone.


I first came across a similar design by Dorothy Loupang at BRANDT Copenhagen, while researching specifications for the Sackett St. project. There was no drawn brief, no inspiration document — just the want, and a few hours. So I took stock of what tools and materials I had on hand, and got to work.
One summer between semesters at Cornell, I worked for a local woodworker in Ithaca named Jim Bruno. He taught me how to find the center of any circle with a square. Mark two intersections, two times. The center reveals itself. I have used this trick more times than the work it was meant to support.

There was some trial and error in the spacing between the dowels and screws — and the depth of each within the base cylinder. Tolerances had to be tight for a snug fit, but pine is not the hardest of woods, and splitting it is easy. A .25 drill bit and some wriggling did the trick.



It shows the lines of its Frankenstein assembly — the charcoal stain mocks me, knowing the perfect shape is not at the hand a person. The competing directions of the wood grain. The curious subtle inset line just below the rim, a seam from the pre-constructed plaque that I chose to keep, rather than fit my vision by sanding it away.
Wood, for what it's worth, is also the rarest material we know of in the universe. Life-grown, planet-specific, found nowhere else we have looked. Working it for an afternoon is a small thing sitting inside a much larger fact.


A small thing, finally on the wall. Made before drawn.
A brief making — wood blanks, dowels, screws, an afternoon. Useful because the want preceded the drawing.
