I could say I sat and drew over 200 chairs to finally reach this design. Countless sleepless nights thinking of the next big thing. But that wouldn’t be true. To be honest, this was my second idea I came up with, the first being a close adaptation. I saw potential, and I ran with it. I drew a couple of versions to get any feeling of untapped creative juices out, but I knew I wanted this to be the chair I made for my Designing Chairs class final. With a household filled with classic mid-century modern pieces, I felt this needed to be made out of wood. I have always seen wood as the most simple yet complex material. Complete rawness in its beauty and random uniqueness in each cut. With my design being seemingly simple yet extremely complex, this was the perfect pairing for my prototype. Not only did I want this made out of wood, I wanted this made out of just one piece. This goal arrived with the planning of manufacturing costs, leaning towards sustainable efforts. One piece of wood is less material waste. Less material waste cuts costs. As I was very much getting ahead of myself, I realized I would be building this in a very different way than Herman Miller would with their heavy machinery. How could I bend cheap plywood without it cracking or breaking?

You can’t.

But you can bend nicer plywood without it cracking or breaking.

This is where the countless sleepless nights kicked in. Months of research on wood bending, kerfing, and math on the amount of cuts to get a certain angle, all while testing those cuts on pieces of leftover wood from my uncle’s basement. Month after month. Failure after failure. The light at the end of the tunnel was dimming, and potential new roads of action were illuminating. But after a reddit scroll on how to avoid cracks in the wood, I had found the secret ingredient.

Steam.

A quick stop at the local appliance store for a handheld clothing steamer made all the difference. Stiff, dry wood turned into jelly. I got to a 40-degree angle, then to a 90-degree angle, all the way to a 200-degree radius that resulted in the final legs. That dim light at the end of the tunnel was a ball of fire now. Tedious cuts about a quarter of an inch apart over and over and over. Well over a hundred of them. Due to the constraints of a small workplace and little machinery, this prototype was cut into four different pieces. Two legs with side tables, the seat, and the back. Cuts were covered with wood putty and sanded down. All that was left was to put it all together. After 4 months of trials, failures, and redirection, the final piece came together. Beautiful curves in the legs for magazine storage, side tables as arms for relaxation and enjoyment, and a sculpted backrest that ties the whole chair together. The focus on scale was not only a priority but the main attraction for this piece. Each measurement was carefully chosen to balance out the next. A lounger that was not only functional but a work of art. I curated the name from the phrase “Tabula Rasa” literally meaning “scraped tablet” in Latin. It’s true definition lies in the symbolism. It signifies a new beginning, a blank slate. It not only illustrates my real journey through this process, but also my journey to who I am as a creative today. To scrape a past to write a better future.