Time...

I really enjoy time-lapse photography. Since I was a kid, it's always seemed a little like magic: flowers sprout and bloom, clouds gather and conjure a storm, and sun rises and falls within seconds. Here is a time-lapse video of me sanding down some old wood for the tray. It's easy to let your mind drift and let time fly when you're sanding. Notice the shadows shift. Click this link if the video isn't playing for you.

Always, Always Learning

Learning as I go: my father shows me an impromptu jig he's made to help make rabbet cuts for the legs of the tray.

Second pic: I get to learn how to replace a band saw blade after I snapped this one.

Assembly. Part 1

This machine is one that helps make old wood look new. It can shave off minute layers and create a fairly precise surface. After planing, the pieces of each leg are glued.

New Life

It's always been important to me to conserve both time and materials. When creating something new out of something old, however, one must sacrifice time in order to make recycled scrap look close to new. I decided to use as much repurposed lumber as I can in each of my sand trays. I have been lucky enough to find enough scrap wood in my father's old shed to complete this first tray. Much of it has nail holes and surface damage. But underneath is plenty of good stuff waiting to present itself. With time, care, and the right tools, it can again be useful and proud. Inside the shed: always an adventure. I found plenty of wood, and some of my late grandfather's shop tools.

Howdy!

It was two years ago during my graduate work at Texas State University that I was introduced to sand tray. It didn't take long before I discovered its history, its utility, and its power. But despite my new understanding, there was one aspect that still didn't feel right about it. The University counseling clinics had a few rooms dedicated to sand tray- some seemed geared for children, and a couple seemed more tailored to adults. As innocuous and inconspicuous as the sand trays themselves were meant to be, they stood out. According to our textbook, the tray was supposed to blend in with the room, not distract. They were to be plain and simple. The trays we used were indeed plain and simple, but so simple that they did not match the rest of the furniture in the room. Furthermore, having had a little experience with carpentry and basic woodworking, it was evident to me that the trays were poorly designed and prone to break. When I found out from a professor how much the University had paid for them, I made the decision to make my own. I knew I could make better trays for less. Now that I've graduated, I have a little more time to spend on avocation. This blog is my story of making better, less expensive sand trays in hopes that the therapeutic technique can be more available to clinicians and clients. The sand tray rooms were kind of magical, but this was my favorite nook of the University.