"What is it this time, Holmes?morphine" asks dr Watson assherlock Holmes puts away his cocaine and syringe at the beginning of "Sign of Four" the second long Sherlock Holmes story Conan Doyle wrote. Holmes never used drugs when he was on a case, when his mind was occupied. Only when the tedium of normality overwhelmed him. Much the same in my case. Once on a furniture making project I would never use drugs. I'd drink perhaps a bottle of wine a night or a few pints of beer but nothing stronger. What was clear was I could not endure living in the streets I grew up in. The estates where everyone I knew from my childhood lived were awash with drugs. During my time at Richards I developed a crack habit, a nasty condition, but I never gave in to the heroin that was constantly there. I kept consistent visits to my father as he recovered and I never missed a days work. With my dog at Richards he was safe. Though a dangerous environment for humans it wasn't too bad for him. Sleep was stolen in lay bys in the back of my van.
I subscribe to bundle theory. An idea of the philosopher Hume. We are not a singular self but a bundle of differing, often contradictory impulses and urges. The self hatred addicts endure is stupendous and horrific. A decision to never touch the stuff again battles constantly with a yearning. A constant hunger to be normal. Born with low endorphins the heroine addict can be seen as the same as the depressive. It's just that the junky gets up and does something about it. Self medication inevitably leads to an early grave but faced with a short life or a long one of misery it is hard to blame the heroin user for their choice.
So back to Somerset and away from all that nastiness. I had plenty of work so was never tempted to do anything but work hard. I made two four post beds in maple, five chests of drawers, several bedside units, four dressing tables in maple with innovative mirrors. The top floor all in maple had a lightness and purity I was proud of.
Downstairs I made an oval dining table, a small tv table with those students through stub, wedged tenons. I got some fantastic elm for the large dresser, some of which was left over to make a side table for the kitchen. The office room in oak had bookcases down the walls and a desk and chair I was particularly proud of. My life was clean. Just my dog and me in the caravan building an entire cottage worth of furniture for a beach front cottage in pollock weir. This house is one of my greatest achievements.
A few years before I did all the furniture for the same client. I had shaken off my heroin habit and was strong once more. The house was a tall regency (i think) in clapham. We began with the kitchen in ash with granite work tops and ash cabinets to the rear. Upstairs the next floor I made an oak fire surround and two brown oak bookcases either side of the chimney breast. Next floor a four poster bed in maple and various bedroom furniture, dressing table with stool. On the top floor a large maple wardrobe and a double bed. That's two whole houses. I have done the entire top floor of another for him, five four poster beds for another house and am currently working on pieces for his new house in Chelsea. Whilst working for him, whilst working on any serious furniture I have remained clean and sober. You could say one precludes the other, but it works both ways. Fortunately I am far happier making than not. The devil makes work for idle hands.
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