The creation of a thing neither begins, nor ends. This desk began when I first wondered at the roundness of the world reflected in the fallen raindrop, and will end some years hence when I last push myself away from its worn and used surface. It also began when a neolithic man took a sharp stone and formed a hole in a iridescent shell, tied it round with a string which he had crafted of sinew and gave it to his lover. Design, even with something original like this desk, rests upon an long aesthetic of those who came before, some of which were giants. It rest upon philosophy and social constructs. It is a reaction to the world at large and our experience within it. It is the sum of all those things and forms the hand and head to its end.
Next, the fumming. I need to build a tent and buy some noxious stuff. Then, the simple design will turn in to a crazy beautiful thing.