Centerpieces

These sit in the middle of a table or on a console and do half their job before anyone eats. Smaller than a dining top. Heavier in the hand than a thin serving board. I treat them as finished objects, not offcuts with oil slapped on.

Why make them

A full table is a long commit. A board is useful but quiet. Centerpieces land between. You get river work, live edge, color experiments, without crating a dining slab across a continent.

They're good when someone wants a gift that isn't another candle. Good when you're picking epoxy color for a future table and want to live with black-and-walnut for a month first. Good in a lobby or entry where a flat board looks cheap and a table would be absurd.

How they're built

Same rules as the big tops. Seal the wood so the pour doesn't burp bubbles for three hours. Mix by weight. Sand through the grits until the resin and the wood meet in one plane. Finish for how the piece will live: a dining-table runner sees hands and crumbs; a shelf piece mostly sees dust and afternoon sun.

Some run long and low. Some are thick enough to feel like sculpture. I don't force either shape if the slab is already telling me what it is.

Custom

Species, epoxy color, rough size. That's enough to start. I'll push back if the idea fights the wood. Sometimes the ugly split is the whole reason the piece works.