Crafting a Timeless Purpleheart Table

 



For the first time in my life, I crafted a table using a Purpleheart wood slab. And let me tell you, this wood isn’t just exotic—it’s got attitude.

Purpleheart is like the superhero of hardwoods, boasting a vibrant purple hue and near-indestructible durability. Native to Central and South America, this dense wood is practically unbothered by moisture, insects, or wear—think of it as the Chuck Norris of lumber. Its iconic purple shade deepens with age and sunlight, giving it a majestic, timeless appeal. But don’t be fooled by its beauty—working with this wood can feel like wrestling with a stubborn mule. Thankfully, the end result always makes you forget the struggle.






I visited Juksan Woodshop, the treasure trove of premium wood slabs in Korea. If wood slabs were celebrities, this place would be the Oscars. Three years ago, I teamed up with them to create a walnut table, and since then, the owner and I have been as close as brothers—woodworking brothers, to be exact.




Among thousands of wood slabs, I found myself drawn to the last remaining Purpleheart slab—like finding the last slice of cake at a party. Measuring 1200mm in width, 1900mm in length, and 45mm in thickness, it was as if this slab had been waiting just for me to bring it to life.




I ran the slab through a massive planer to flatten both sides. This beast of a machine can handle widths up to 1300mm—it’s like the Hulk of woodworking tools, effortlessly taming even the wildest slabs.



I decided to do the processing in my own workshop. Winter in Korea isn’t exactly friendly for woodworking—Juksan Woodshop felt more like a walk-in freezer. Plus, my workshop has all the tools I need to work comfortably without freezing my fingers off.







The 1200mm width was just too wide—like trying to fit a king-sized mattress through a narrow hallway. So, I cut the slab into three boards and decided the two outer boards would make the perfect tabletop. The middle one? It’s destined for greatness as something else.




I spent an embarrassingly long time contemplating the shape of the tabletop. Honestly, the debate in my head started the moment I first laid eyes on this wood and didn’t stop even after I cut it into three pieces. Should I join the boards with their cut edges facing each other using domino joinery? Or maybe align the outer sapwood edges to meet in the center for that natural, artistic look? Decisions, decisions—it felt like picking sides in a family argument.




I grabbed a grinder and a sanding brush to tame the wild sapwood areas. With a little effort and a lot of dust, those rough edges were soon smooth enough to pass as the fancy part of the table.







For the deeply indented areas of the sapwood, I filled them with resin to give it a polished finish. To make things more interesting, I added a few drops of black ink to the resin—it felt like adding a secret ingredient to a recipe. Despite my confidence in sealing it tightly, the resin had other plans and leaked out the next day, leaving me to redo the process. Thanks to the chilly weather, the resin decided to take its sweet time, taking three full days to cure completely.





Now it was time to give this table some legs—literally. I decided to use the middle board from the original cuts to craft them. After all, why let a perfectly good piece of wood sit around when it could be holding up a masterpiece?













The cracks were everywhere—like a roadmap on the wood—so I decided to add bowties to hold it all together. Armed with a router, I carved out the slots, fine-tuned them with a chisel, hammered in the bowties, trimmed the excess with a Japanese pull saw, and gave everything a smooth finish with some sanding. Who knew wood repair could feel so classy?










I used domino joinery to assemble the legs, feeling like a woodworking genius—until the worry set in. Even as I worked, I couldn’t help but wonder if these legs would stand the test of time or if my table was destined to wobble like a café chair on uneven ground.







I wrapped up the final steps at Juksan Woodshop, where the magic happens. With 320-grit sandpaper, I gave the wood a smooth finish that could make anyone want to run their hand across it. Then, I applied oil to seal the surface, watching as the Purpleheart’s vibrant colors came alive—it was like watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon. Finally, I joined the legs and tabletop using bolts and nuts, giving the table both strength and style. The Purpleheart reveals its true colors, and let me tell you, it’s a showstopper!









And just like that, the table is complete! It’s standing proud, ready to steal the spotlight at Juksan Woodshop. If you ever stop by, you can see this beauty in person—just don’t blame me if you fall in love with it. Of course, if someone truly appreciates its value (and brings their wallet), it might just find a new home.

To see the entire process of bringing this masterpiece to life, check out the video linked below. It’s got everything: sawdust, tools, and plenty of woodworking drama!



Comments

Popular Posts