We've seen video of a monstrous tree-felling vehicle, as well as the sometimes comically-difficult process of loading logs into containers. 

The next step in turning those logs into tasty, nutritious 2x4s is to run it through a mill. This process is pretty staggering when executed on an industrial scale, and engineers have designed all sorts of clever machinery to shift, rotate, transport, sort, saw, flip and plane these logs into shape.

But if you're walking around in one of these facilities, you really can't see much; the massive assembly line has much of the action above eye-level. Thus Vaagen Brothers Lumber, a third-generation family-run large-scale mill in Washington State, has captured their entire operation via drone. Here we can get a perfect view of this incredibly well-choreographed lumber-processing dance:

It's hard to pick which of those contraptions was my favorite, but I think it's this thing:

In a visionary field like architecture, some ideas develop before their time. That can be said of Claude Parent (1923-2016), the French architect and utopian thinker who passed away over the weekend on February 27th, one day after his 93rd birthday.

Over the course of his career he built up a relatively small but noteworthy body of built work—including collaborations with artists Jean Tinguely and Yves Klein, a church, a shopping center and a nuclear power plant—but is perhaps best known for his theories about the "oblique function" in architecture (which he developed alongside philosopher Paul Virilio). These ideas have been embraced and interpreted by the likes of Zaha Hadid, Frank Gehry, Rem Koolhaas and Jean Nouvel—who all cite Parent as an important influence—though Parent himself remained (rather contentedly, it seems) outside of the mainstream. In honor of his bold and unconventional approach, we revisit his visions for a tilted world.

Villa Drusch, Versailles, 1963

Even early on in his carer, Parent had an eye for the topsy-turvy. He injected instability into his design for Villa Drusch, for example, by detaching the living room from a flat-roofed two-story house and rotating it 45 degrees so it appeared like a cube barely balancing on its edge. 

The remnants of a concrete defensive structure used by the German Army during World War II juts out of the sand along a beach in northern France along the Atlantic Wall. (Photo courtesy of Stephan Vanfleteren)

This line of thinking further crystallized when he and Paul Virilio visited the remains of Nazi bunker units built along the Atlantic Wall in France. Over time and from the force of weather, the bunkers had been dislocated out of the ground and began sinking into the surrounding sand dunes. Inside the structures, Parent and Virilio were met with a dizzying experience: "You tumbled through a strange room; the floor was so sloped that you couldn't tell whether what you were standing on was a slanted floor or a former wall," he explained. This powerful sensation stayed with him and became the foundation for his ideas about space. 

Model of Mariotti House, Saint-Germain, 1966-67 

Parent designed the French pavilion during for the 1970 Venice Biennale as an immersive experience for his oblique vision. 

"I wanted to combine adventurousness and disequilibrium, or: the pursuit of movement."

Parent worked with Virilio on works that developed their ideas about "the function of the oblique" in architecture. "With these projects we were saying: 'For nine thousand years you've been living on horizontal planes and you've never considered an alternative' (except for sailors and mountaineers who were the only people who knew what I meant at the time)." In this radical redefinition of architecture, all rational systems were removed. There would no longer be enclosures or a sense of up and down—buildings would become landscapes and our experience of space would shift to become very active rather than passive. "What would it be like...if space were understood more playfully, more freely, if movement and being in a space also could mean climbing, reclining, sliding?" he asked. 

Parent designed this nuclear power plant in Cattenom, Moselle.

After closing his architecture office in the early 2000s (his reputation in France suffered greatly after he designed a nuclear power plant that was opposed by politicians and environmentalists) Parent pursued his vision through drawing. In an interview with Purple Magazine, he expanded on his ideas about fluid space: 

"My drawings are not only about fluidity in architecture; they are also about migration— a future civilization of migration based on permanent traveling all over the world, people circulating on massive roads that transform into cities and buildings where people can come and go. I believe that we should no longer build walled cities, closed up on themselves by their own territorial boundaries, protected by insurmountable defenses. Let's unfurl onto the Earth passages that billow like continuous ribbons."

Claude Parent speaking to students in his house which was outfitted with inclined planes rather than furniture. 

In 2001 Parent wrote down his personal manifesto—it's a good list of reminders to turn to when you find your own work could be turned upside down a little bit:

Twelve Subversive Acts to Dodge the System
1. Open the Imaginary
2. Operate in Illusion
3. Dislodge the Immobile
4. Think Continuity
5. Surf on the Surface
6. Live in Obliqueness
7. Destabilize
8. Use the Fall
9. Fracture
10. Practice Inversion
11. Orchestrate Conflict
12. Limit Without Closing 

In our Weekly Maker's Roundup we show you videos of people making things. Often they'll explain what they're doing and how, in hopes you'll pick up a tool and give it a shot yourself. What you won't find is any romanticized pontificating about "what it all means." The guys and gals in the videos we seek out are compelled to build things and interested in teaching others how to do it.

But there's another breed of maker videos, often on Vimeo, that we think of as "I'm a Maker, and Here's My Story" spots. You know the type: They start with piano chords, dolly shots of dusty workbenches, a voiceover. These videos can excel when they reveal an uncommon craft like Ben Harris' traditional boat building, or they strike a chord with Core77 readers for featuring an industrial designer who quit the profession in order to build things, like Ben Cramp. But other times they can devolve into overly-romanticized studies in well-worn tropes.

Comedy-minded videographers have picked up on the latter sort, producing entertaining parodies featuring ReMade's toilet plunger, David Rees' artisanal pencil sharpening and Smoke & Flame's artisanal firewood. The latest is Patrick Kehoe's "The Maker," which perfectly sums up the genre:

If this one doesn't put "maker story" videographers on notice, nothing will. Kehoe and writer/performer Andy Corbett have nailed every trope, from the art direction, the editing, the background music, the earnest delivery of the absurd monologue.

Going a step further into meanness, Hormel's Dinty Moore brand takes direct aim at those who would reduce the maker movement into a fashion statement:

Not cringeworthy enough for you? This will do the trick:

Is it me, or are these becoming way more fun to watch than the real deal?

I once got sprayed with a fire extinguisher at a bar, my reward for trying to defuse an argument between two hotheads. That's the extent of my experience with fire extinguishers, though I've often wondered: Would I have the wherewithal to put out a fire with one?

It's not clear where they get these statistics from, but a German company called Elide claims that "90% of ordinary people cannot use fire-extinguishing equipment when they are facing a real fire." Thus they've invented a passive firefighting device, called the Elide Fire Ball, that works like this:

What you can't hear in the video is that once the ball has been exposed to open flame for three to eight seconds, it emits a loud warning noise before exploding. It's filled with an undefined "extinguishing powder" that will snuff out fires within an eight- to ten-square-meter radius.

The company reckons that by simply mounting the ball in a fire-prone area, like near a stove or that creepy candle shrine you built in your bedroom to practice yoga in the middle of to get in touch with your feelings after your last bad breakup, it will take care of fires on its own. And the ball is false-alarm-proof, as it will only activate when exposed to fire. (If I had been hit with one of these at the bar, I wouldn't have had to go home and change my clothes.)

Still, I know what you're thinking: They're mostly throwing the ball in the video. What if the would-be fire-putter-outer doesn't have good aim? What if you have to, say, put out a fire in Oklahoma City that's ten feet up, maybe 32 feet away and you're being guarded by Andre Roberson with mere seconds left on the clock? The answer is obvious. You simply arrange to have Steph Curry on hand at all times.

The man is not human. Steph Curry is not human.

This position separates the great from the good, requiring a rare mix of spectacular smarts, creative problem-solving, first-rate communication skills, healthy work ethic and a strong desire to have fun. Candidates should have real-world CAD surfacing and modeling skills, rock star sketching abilities, and ninja-level Photoshop and Illustrator skills.

Here's a bit of a mystery. Up for sale is this tony, fully-furnished 3,350-square-foot house in Palm Springs, which was built in 1969—and appears to be completely untouched since the original owners moved in. What's strange is that the house was sold in 1994 to a second owner, who apparently maintained the interior décor and kept it in its stunning, if garish-by-today's-standards, condition. Take a look at this place:

"The big mystery on this house is that it had two owners," realtor Lucio Bernal told Retro Renovation, "and no one seems to know who did the decor and the architecture. We are trying to find out."

The house was undoubtedly decked out in '69 or the '70s, and if you can get past what passed for style back then, you'll actually see a fair bit of design attention and custom built-ins have been integrated. Take a look at this monster room-width headboard:

Or this classy custom TV cabinet with twin mini fainting couches:

Note that a TV that size was considered HUGE in the 1970s.

There are some idiosyncratic design choices. The bar has some beefy cushioning on it, so as not to stress your elbows when you're downing what appears to be a bottle of (shudder) Cutty Sark.

While I've seen upholstered bar counters before, I'd never seen an upholstered coffee table. I guess if people are going to perch on the edge of it during parties, their butts might as well be comfortable.

If you look at this photo leading from the master bedroom down to the massive master bath, you can see a reveal line in the molding under the countertop at lower left.

Looking closer, we see several reveals. The molding has actually been used as the faces for drawers in the countertop.

Here's aforementioned massive master bath, by the way. Is it me, or does the wastepail at right look like someone dropped a lampshade?

I'm not sure if the photo is overexposed or if these guys like taking REALLY bright showers.

Opposite from the shower is the enclosed toilet. As you can see it's got a mini chandelier in there!

What I like about the '70s is that it was before people went nuts with pillows and kept it simple. Just one pillow each, you know?

Oh wait a sec, I take that back.

Something those of you accustomed to modern-day luxury may find surprising is what short shrift the kitchen got. Prior to the '90s and the current glut of cooking shows, cooking had no glamour associated with it at all, and here it shows.

Look at that lousy drop ceiling. I know it contains lighting fixtures that presumably provide great task lighting, but in contrast to the rest of the house, this could be the breakroom at a hospital. (Well, minus the shag rug.)

For those of you curious to see more, there are tons of additional photos of the space here.

Ed Stubbs caught up with Carlos Salaff, founder of Salaff cars, to get an update on the progress of his visceral supercar vision, Caden.

Core77: With the exterior design frozen you're into the interior refinement stage. Can you talk about the 'authentic' feel that you're targeting…

Carlos Salaff: Absolutely—I admire Pagani's interiors for their materials and the artistic form that he creates. You know, even in high end luxury cars there's a lot of plastic, so when I see the interior of the Huayra for example, it's stunning, high-quality, there are real materials...it's honest.

I'm also after minimalism and artistry. The switchgear is centrally placed around the driver's hands, with two banks of toggle switches on each side.

Metal toggle switch banks?

Yes, aluminum with etched graphics, something lasting, and that gives a weight to the components…a substance to each piece. Every component is there for a specific reason and it's built to last. We've got used to the tactility of plastics, even well engineered plastics, but you can feel the coldness of metal, the warmth of leather, and that's the honesty of materials that I'm striving for with Caden.

So how are you finding working on the 'unsexy' stuff, door handles and the like?

I'm 3D printing the prototype parts in ABS—the main instrumentation and interior features, air-vents that turn into a bank of switches. But ultimately all of the interior components will be milled from solid-billet aluminum for a timeless look and feel.

And the rest of the interior, how's that progressing?

The interior detail is a blast! Instrumentation, the gauges, the fonts even...they say so much, it's a sub-detail that supports the overall theme. With the seats I have composite racing shells, which I'm going to create a saddle-like wrap over, and part of the seats will be exposed. I'm after a tailored, durable look that looks better with aging…that honesty theme again! The design features selectively placed pads for pure function, and they let the machinery, the bones of the seat show through.

And that's the same for the suspension, that'll be visible from the interior, as will the vent ducting – kinda like industrial architecture, letting the bones be part of the artistry.

Sounds raw?

Yeah, It's that raw feeling of an Ariel Atom but it's covered, and that needs to look intentional with each piece working in harmony, aesthetically and functionally. It needs to be considered and intentional. I sometimes think of it as some kind of humanoid robot—elements that are organic, shaped like a human body, but you see the workings, the wires and the cabling behind.

What's the timeframe for the prototype?

Exterior design freeze was January 2015, we're working through chassis and suspension development now and the interior. Powertrain and transmission assemblies are being developed. So I'm hoping to have the rolling prototype by around October 2016.

You have two back-end design themes—how do you decide your design direction—are you using any customer clinic work or do you go on gut-instinct?

100% gut instinct! I'm going for the cleaner option, it lets the surfaces breath; possibly not the most 'of the moment' direction but it's a more timeless feel.

As a designer there's always that temptation to look back at your work and think you could have done it differently, done it better—but with Caden there's a lot at stake, and you have to commit at some point to build it.

I think I've had the luxury of waiting a little bit longer and trying more variations than I would have done in a design studio, where there's a program schedule. Obviously I have one too, and I've tried many different design variations, and I can keep coming back to my studio and seeing it again and again. And you know inside almost spiritually if it's 'the one'—and at some point you look at it and you know it's done, you just know. I have to get really excited about it to be happy with the design. I see this as an artistic venture, a living sculpture, something artistic. On the other hand I have to build this! So I have to finish things, refine them, work with my team. It's that balance, but my feelings are driven by my artistic vision.

And are you able to step back from the build process at any point and just see the car with fresh eyes?

I always think I hope it's as cool as it looks in my head! It's a work in progress…always striving to make the surfaces sing, the stance look right. I want to keep most of the body in brushed raw finish, a semi-polished aluminum. I picture this very jewel-like lustre, something like a 1930's Auto-Union, then for the areas where the air travels through the car I'm picturing a high-gloss red, or a bright blue, a yellow: it's something that could be tailored to the customer.

We talk about scenarios with our design students to put the design into a wider context; who is your target customer?

I picture someone who loves vintage racing and sports cars, maybe has a collection already, who appreciates authenticity, the way those older cars were made, the honesty of the materials, and the experience of a very direct and connected driving experience. And who wants a more progressive machine with those same qualities. Maybe they have a group C car in the garage! Someone who laments the demise of the manual transmission, who appreciates it's not all about the numbers...you know milliseconds around a track doesn't make a car great. Caden is designed to take you to a joyful place, to make you forget about your troubles. It's about the experience and the joy of driving.

You're using an existing engine—what kind of performance specs are you aiming for with Caden?

Because it's so mechanically simple: a manual steering rack for instance means that this is a light car with a stable roll-center and center of gravity. So it's in the region of 1000kgs-1200kgs, and the engine stock is at 500PS, so it'll be fast. It's not about raw numbers though—what interests me more is the view out of the windshield, what it sounds like, the sense of acceleration, and the drama of driving. Large car companies have a lot of pressure to go with the tide of technology, not necessarily because it adds to the driving experience, but it may be part of the brand image, or to stay with the expectations of the marketplace.

Did you consider Carbon-fibre for the tub?

Yes, again though, it's intentional to use aluminum. There's a lot of carbon chassis cars out there. I wanted a plastic-free car. There's something about metal, the feel, the history, the nostalgia that's part Sauber C9 and part Mustang P51. Raw metal—it's really a serious performance material. Essentially we're using construction techniques developed for WW2 aircraft. It's taking timeless experiential values and marrying them to a progressive design.

I designed Caden's surfaces with the material in mind..the way the fuselage flows, there's no sharp creases that break out. The bodyside of Caden is kind of a voluptuous shape, a simple shape. The sharpness is created by the openings, the tautness of the details.

I really love the Lockheed Martin SR71 blackbird, it has this shrink-wrapped surfacing over the cabin, the engines and the wing edges are totally chopped on purpose for aero function so I wanted a little of that contrast between the belly of Caden and these angular, dynamic elements.

And that was imagined in raw aluminum. The beauty of that surface makes you think of vintage bodysides, a sweet simple bodyside section. Those old racing cars, they were allowed to breathe—you know you can almost see the metal breathe through the paint!

AutoUnion Streamliner 1937

It's that hand-formed connection to the human soul that goes into creating the panels. Instead of putting resin into a mold and compressing it, there's character that goes into it.

So there's that authenticity in every aspect of how the project has been created, from material choice to how it's being fabricated. Think back to the coachbuilders of the '50s, the artisans that built those cars—hammering panels by hand over tree stumps, putting their soul into the machine. That's what Caden is aiming to capture, but in a unique and progressive way.

Major Tom is a modular system. It allows quick and easy assembly, disassembly or modification of furniture pieces. One piece from the collection is a tabletop equipped with a modular panel that can be connected with legs in just a few seconds. Depending on the situation, an extension module transforms your normal table to a standing one. Whether you'd like to build a table, a chair or mount your speakers, there are endless options for modularity.

Robert Irwin's prolific status hasn't prevented him from remaining somewhat in the shadows—fittingly, this temperament is further visualized in the minimalist art he produces. Originally a painter turned installation artist, his pieces over time moved from small to large, from flat to fully experiential. If you don't already know of Robert Irwin, you might be familiar with some of his colleagues like Larry Bell and James Turrell (an artist who became even more relevant in recent pop culture news after this). Each of these "California Light and Space" artists are responsible for some truly mind bending work that nod equally to the wonders of science and art. 

Robert Irwin is well know for works with a direct relationship to light and its power to transform a space. 

Larry Bell's "6 x 6 An Improvisation", 2014

For the first time in his career, Irwin is constructing a permanent architectural structure in the town of Marfa, Texas with the Chinati Foundation, and it looks like it's going to be crazy. Check out an overview of the project from their Kickstarter project page: 

Irwin states his purpose for the building is simple: the intention is plainly, "to make you a little more aware than you were the day before of how beautiful the world is." Utilizing the open skies Marfa is famous for, the building will be separated by light and dark, constructed of black and white translucent scrim fabric walls, which will react to the changing light throughout the day. 

The Chinati Foundation is also currently seeking funding through Kickstarter for an additional section of the building: an unconventional, meditative courtyard garden designed by Irwin, which will include a basalt rock column central sculpture along with rows of Palo Verde trees. 

Irwin told the New York Times in January that the particulars of the Marfa landscape were the ultimate reasoning behind building in such a deserted area: "I used to come out here all the time, to this part of Texas...And I'd ask myself, 'Why make something here?' But then you know the minute you turn off I-10 and start driving this way: The sky changes. It's amazing. Every day is like a new event. The sky is everything."

The Robert Irwin Project is officially set to open in Marfa, Texas this summer, July 2016.

Toolboxes are handy for keeping things all in one place, but they aren't much good if you can't quickly access everything in them. The classic problem is that you need to fish to reach what's in the bottom. For the past ten years Jimmy DiResta has lived with this design flaw, but as of today, no more!

Watch as Jimmy modifies the design of an antique toolbox, intentionally misuses a Festool Domino, uses a clever method of sanding the top perimeter flat, employs some unconventional glue-up methods and reveals more signature DiResta tips:

Last night, astronaut Scott Kelly landed in Kazahkstan after spending 340 days in space. His seemingly idyllic landing and adventures over the past year (documented here in a film by TIME Magazine and PBS) have rekindled our public imagination for the deep mysteries that lie beyond Earth. 

The Soyuz TMA-18M spacecraft descending under its main parachute near the town of Zhezkazgan, Kazakhstan. (Photo credit: Bill Ingalls)

This fascination started with the Cold War Space Race, an early period of space exploration that became one of the most significant technological undertakings of the 20th century, culminating with Neil Armstrong's legendary first steps on the moon. 

The incredible infrastructures that were erected to support this endeavor served as a symbol for the high-stakes urgency of the time period—but these once-crucial sites have been abandoned and left to become modern ruins. Over the past 25 years, photographer Roland Miller travelled to over 16 sites across the country, documenting the current state of these space-launch and research facilities. 

Through images that are at once documentary and artistic, he captures the temporal nature of sites that once captivated the entire world. "These abandoned space launch and test facilities bring to mind archeological sites," he stated in an interview. "There is a spiritual quality to Launch Complex 34. The launch pedestal with its large round opening to the sky gives it the look of some ancient astronomical archaeological ruin, something like Stonehenge."

All of the images below were taken by Roland Miller. They will be collected in the forthcoming book "Abandoned in Place: Preserving America's Space History" to be published in March 2016 by the University of New Mexico Press.

Launch Pad and Gantry with Hermes A-1 Rocket, V2 Launch Complex 33,White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico, 2006

Launch Ring, Launch Complex 34 (Apollo Saturn), Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1990

Apollo Saturn V F1 Engine Cluster, NASA Johnson Space Center, Texas, 1996

Atlas Rocket, Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1993

Wind Tunnel Test Chamber with Model, NASA Langley Research Center, Virginia, 1997

Mobile Service Tower Platforms, Atlas Launch Complex 36B, Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 2005

Rubber Room, Launch Pad 39B, Kennedy Space Center

Telemetry Receivers, Strip Chart Recorders, Blockhouse, Redstone Complex 36, Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 2000

Missile Fuel Tank, Atlas Launch Complex 13, Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1992

Saturn V F1 Engine, Kennedy Space Center, Florida, 1997

Launch Complex 34 Apollo Saturn Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 2000

Horizontal Gantry from Base, Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1991

Flooded Room Beneath Pad 19, Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1992

Launch Control Room, Titan II ICBM Silo 395-C Vandenburg Air Force Base, California, 1995

Pressure Gauge Panel, Apollo Saturn V F1 Engine Test Stand Boeing Facility, Santa Susana Field Laboratory, California, 1998

Solar Simulator and 120-Foot Vacuum Chamber A, NASA Johnson Space Center, Texas, 1996

Liquid Fuel Tank Support, Launch Complex 37 Apollo Saturn Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1993

Blockhouse, Launch Complex 37 Apollo Saturn Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida, 1992

Plug Board, Complex 26 Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida

Fuel Tank, Kansas Cosmosphere and Space Center

Abandoned in Place: Preserving America's Space History by Roland Miller will be published in March 2016 by University of New Mexico Press

I'm just going to go ahead and say especially to you DIY-ers that I'm sorry in advance: if you haven't already seen this, you're about to get lost in an internet K-hole.

MAKE recently resurfaced their 2013 video series with Steve Hoefer, "Make: Inventions," in which the designer finds old patents and attempts to recreate lesser known iterations of classic design objects. The exploration is a fascinating one to watch as a designer because the videos not only go into a brief history of the object, but also shows exactly how many predecessors to classic models fail to acknowledge design elements now seen as common sense. 

Get your feet wet with a few different episodes, like: 

Can Openers

Although canned food was invented even before the Civil War, it seems a dedicated tool to opening the cans actually came about 50 years later (as canned food was invented for war times, suggested tools for opening included bayonets and sharp rocks).

The Etch-A-Sketch

You may have never thought you wanted to know about the history of the Etch-A-Sketch, but once he starts going into the internal pulley system you'll be hooked. 

Telegraphs

This one is pretty fantastic—Hoefer mixes old technology with new by laser cutting in wood a replica of a telegraph from an 1800s patent sketch. 

Sadly this series wrapped up in 2013 after a short lived run, and it's really quite a shame because they are so fascinating—but then again, I guess the limited number makes it easier for us to get back to our lives. 

If you're designing a tool, a shop jig or a minimalist housing for an electronic device, you'll pretty much hew to the Form Follows Function rule. But there are plenty of other object categories—say, footwear, automotive or furniture—where you have an opportunity to integrate more abstract trappings.

This can require generating form ideas from beyond the realm of function, and at industrial design school they teach you several techniques for this. Here's one of the quicker, easier and cleaner methods, as demonstrated by industrial designer Eric Strebel. All you need are some sheets of paper or cardstock, a sharp knife, and either a stapler or tape:

The designer’s primary duty will be that day-to-day handling of design projects, focused specifically on motion graphics. They should have 2-4 years of experience, a Bachelors degree, and a strong proficiency and experience in the Adobe Creative Suite, particularly Photoshop, Illustrator, and After Effects (Cinema 4D a plus).

Dear Reader, are you perhaps

…looking to freshen up the scenario for your design history reenactment group?  

… a sun-loving DIYer caught in-doors, seeking to evade a persistent winter?  

… a creative-type in a gestational holding pattern while awaiting a Spring delivery? 

If you are then read on, because, oh boy, do we have the project for you.

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

While his chair is a widely known cultural icon, the depth of Gerrit Rietveld’s output was so great and his application of creative vision so broad that a cursory exploration of his work readily yields wonderful surprises even for designers.  The rewards are multiplied for those of us who have an interest in fabrication—the elemental nature of his workshop’s output is fairly easy to conceptually deconstruct and can be replicated, if not in exact proportions or finish, at least in technique with some simple tools.  

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

Any gratuitous mental exertion is unnecessary if you are lucky enough to come upon a copy of Peter Drijver and Johannes Niemeijer’s How to Construct Rietveld Furniture.  It documents how to build dozens of his pieces often with original construction drawings, illustrations and notes from the workshop.

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

Of these products, it is the Beach Buggy that perfectly brings the aesthetic, the product ethos and the lifestyle of Rietveld together.  It resonates particularly on that last note, fitting nicely with every designer’s aspiration to apply design to all aspects of their existence. Additionally, the form, patterns and colors of the broader movement essentially set the aesthetic of the children’s product genre for generations. The buggy takes on a level of importance as a formative artifact in which utility and aesthetic first meet.

Photo via Phaidon

So if you do perhaps fall into one of our aforementioned hyper-specific categories and are as inspired as we are by this object, then we encourage you to set out upon a recreation of your own.  Start now, for it isn’t a particularly simple piece and one that you might want to ensure some integrity in for a little person’s use. We'll check back in the summer when you should be just about ready to hit the sand.

Photo via Centraal Museum Utrecht

P.S. If you aren’t up for woodworking, there is a paper model to construct!

When you decide to become a designer, the path might not be completely clear but traditionally, it has some key features and check points. Attending the right design school, getting the right client, innovating in a particular material, style, etc. usually top the checklist for a successful design career. However, for some designers, careers are built not out of a particular school of thought or innovation but from a seemingly single-minded curiosity about the world. 

For Spanish-born Artist/Designer Jaime Hayon, the latter is most definitely the case. 

Talking with Hayon, you are immediately struck with his enthusiasm—a certain insatiable need to explore that has driven his creative work in the art and design world. Indeed, it's easy to forget that you're interviewing one of Europe's most prominent furniture designers who's worked with BMW, Fritz Hansen, Cassina and the like. 

We sat down with Hayon after his keynote on the final day of Design Indaba 2016 to ask about getting his start, his fearless approach to materials, and maintaining an authentic approach all his own through dozens of high-profile collaborations. 

Core77: It seems like many have tried to contextualize your work - do you often get comparisons? 

Jaime Hayon: When I started my career a lot of people didn’t like what I was doing—at least not the serious industrial designers—but now it’s a different story. First, because I work for the same clients and they see the progress of the things and are fascinated by the ideas. The funny thing is that—and this is interesting in life, when you start to be someone, you're always compared. Then you mature into what you're doing, then they don't compare you—they compare other people to you. It's a process of understanding.

Poster for Funtastico, Hayon's solo show at the Groninger Museum

When I started, I didn’t have a direction and I didn’t come from any school and most [other designers] did. Imagine yourself in the middle of nowhere. I call Madrid the middle of nowhere because when I got out of school there was no reference—I was asking 'where are the other people?' When Hella Jongerius got out of school there was Marcel Wanders. When Ron [Arad] was teaching at the Royal College of Art there were a lot of people around. 

When I got out of school there wasn't anyone—I was asking 'How do you become a designer?' I had no idea. People where scared of what they see and at the same time they are fascinated completely. I’ve been asked a million questions—where do you come from? What do you do? What is your shit? I had to invent it.

In the beginning, I was just hoping someone would come to the gallery in Barcelona where I worked and just buy something, but it was impossible. I started off with a very timid approach. [At that point] you cannot imagine how much you can grow with something. I still remember crazy anecdotes about the starting points in my career where it was really hard to make a living. I was making ceramics with ears and bringing them to the gallery and selling them for nothing. But then there are always people who start to come who have an eye—who say 'huh, quite interesting.' 

What is the role of technology and materials in your work?

It's very interesting because I think with technology, a lot of people base the content of their work on how they made it, with this high-tech, ecological material or whatever that is in the future. It’s a perfectly fine way to see it, especially because in the century that we live in, a lot of people are constantly researching new materials. If the base of your work is about an innovative material—then your products are going to be innovative just because of that. 

For me I neglected that because I don’t want my content to be based on other people's research. These days, you go to a fair and see an incredible new chair made out of poop or whatever and you don’t even look at the form of it. You don’t even consider if it's comfortable or interesting, the process or the assembly. This is because the only thing they are communicating is the crazy material and if that’s the whole point, where is the culture? 

Hayon's Fri Armchair for Fritz Hansen

The funny thing is, these innovations will die, but materials that are in museums like glass, crystal, ceramics—they haven’t yet. It's because they are alive, they change, they are human—they are based on natural resources so they don’t need to be ‘ecological’ because they are already. 

Does the digital, or digital fabrication play a role in your work at all? 

I have been asked to work with high tech stuff—3D printers and things like that. It's not that I don’t find it interesting, it's just not necessary to me at the moment. And if I do work with this kind of technology, I would definitely try to find something different. I think its not for me maybe—yet. 

When I went to BMW, I was totally ignorant about how people build cars. But at lunch time there was a moment when I said to an employee ‘with all due respect, your cars are looking very similar to other cars.’ I remember there was a very cold silence for a  minute but then they said ‘you know, you might be right’. 

And you know why? Because all the research on the engineering, safety, marketing is based on the results of the wind tunnel testing. Which has to do with more safety, more speed and this is the freaky thing...I'm thinking why the hell is a wind machine shaping every car? 

Hayon's Installation 'Urban Perspectives' for MINI at Salone Del Mobile 2015

It's quite interesting what technology is doing but people don’t know how to use it.

What is the most important thing to keep in mind when you approach a collaboration? 

When I work with someone I never impose myself. I collaborate in the real sense of the word which means that I talk to you, we speak together and then we make something together. Imposition is the biggest mistake of designers today, it's incredible. 

People think they are good and they feel they have to impose themselves because you can feel superior and you can feel proud because you sold 10,000 sofas. But you know, if I was thinking like that I would be dead today. So I don't think like that—I'm really listening to the people I collaborate with. If I'm going to a new place, I put all the success in the trash and I stand in front of people and I say "Hey people, what are you up to? How can I help you to make something good for both of us?"

The problem is when you impose yourself immediately you are distorting the outcome. Things start to look equal and things don’t have the DNA of your collaborators—people have to evolve with you and do it in a way that is natural for them. 

The funny thing is, these innovations will die, but materials that are in museums like glass, crystal, ceramics—they haven't yet. It's because they are alive, they change, they are human.

Is there a particular collaboration you've done that really illustrates that?  

When I did the porcelain figurines [with Llandro Atilier]. That’s a world that to innovate in and it is impossible. Or it looks impossible—but why? 

The marketing people thought we cannot do figurines in the 20th century. It's ridiculous—why would we? So they said, 'Let's call someone to make new stuff,' but then the new stuff looks new! But there are still old ladies that collect the figurines. I thought maybe we can do them in another way...let's take the manga characters and get [the two styles] to work together. I wanted to make them handmade, the same way they always have. The point is to look at continuing to do the same process but modernize it by saying, 'why not?' 

Hayon's 'The Guest' for Llandro Atilier 

There are people that share the same interests as me. I am not only in design but in art and other fields. People that, by collaborating, understand how to get the essence of what they are doing. When I opened the show [Funtastico] in the Netherlands, Ai Wei Wei was opening his show on the floor above. I was talking with him and he was saying we have something in common. Whenever he works with a material he does it 100% the way they would do it [historically]—I love that approach. I'm a designer-artist, he's an artist fully, but he's focusing and not imposing himself and respecting what's happening—that's how he gets the magic out of it.

Making of 'The Guest' for Llandro Atilier

In the end what do you think is the driving factor for your work? 

Everyone has a direction and mine is to focus on what is relevant to me which is the story we are telling, what the piece is communicating, the qualities it has and the sophistication you get because you're not working with a machine. You are working with humans and humans have bad days.

If you drink the whole night, the thing you made perfectly yesterday is not so perfect today. This is how sophisticated working with humans can be. Mistakes are good. 

Thanks to Jaime Hayon for talking with us at Design Indaba 2016. For more of his work visit the Hayon Studio Website. 

There are plenty of ways to store sex toys without using products specifically designed for that purpose. But there are a number of interesting design features on the products that are designed for organizing sex toys.

The Joyboxx has a removable tray which can serve as a "bedside coaster for your sex toys," as Babeland puts it. It's easy to clean; it can even be put in the dishwasher. It has a child-resistant locking rail, and it also comes with a small combination lock for added security from prying eyes, if that's something the user needs to worry about. There's also a USB charging hole. 

For those who don't need to worry about snoops, there's a small non-locking compartment on the top which makes it easy to reach smaller items.

One drawback: With internal dimensions of 11.25 inches (length) by 5.5 inches (depth) and 3.5" (height) it's too small for some larger toys such as the Hitachi Magic Wand.

The MUA Box (also sold as the Moi Box Deluxe) was launched on Kickstarter by a woman who had "an embarrassing encounter with a professional organizer who discovered her sex toys." (But many organizers, including hers, have certainly come across more than one clients' sex toys—to us, it's just one more thing to organize.)

The case has mesh pockets and elastic straps to keep things in place, and it won't be ruined by lubricant or oil spills. The case in turn fits into the simple, elegant wooden box. Larger toys can be placed in the bottom of the box, below the case. The box comes with a four-letter combination lock. There's a slot in the back for charging cables.

But at 9.8 inches long, 6.7 inches wide and 5.7 inches tall, it's only going to accommodate smaller toys.

The Tunti Illuminating Boudoir Box is no longer available, but it has a couple interesting features. The dividers in the bottom (except for the one that goes across the center) can all be moved so they fit the end user's specific toys. And it lights up when the box is opened, so it's easy to find the toys in a dark room. (Any end users who don't want the LED lights can just remove the batteries.)

ToiBocks (also no longer available) was designed to disguise the box's true purpose. The top section makes it appear to be a simple jewelry box, but the section below is only accessible through a hidden locking mechanism that opens with a magnet. Owners say it's next to impossible to figure out how to open it without reading the instructions. 

ToiTissue, from the same company, has a hidden storage drawer. There's no lock on this product, but the drawer is very hard to detect, so that may not be an issue. End users will need to be sure to buy the right sized tissue boxes; ToiTissue only holds long slim boxes. It's lined with velvet, so end users would need to be careful not to spill anything; this isn't going to be easy to clean. And, of course, since it's rather small it will only hold smaller toys.

Sex toys can also be stored in bags rather than boxes; this is especially helpful for end users who want to take them outside the home. Liberator makes the no-handle Tallulah toy case (13 inches by 7 inches by x 7inches) and the handled Tristan toy bag (14 inches by 6.5 inches by 6 inches); the company specifically notes that a Hitachi Magic Wand will fit in the Tristan. 

The Tallulah bag has a keyed lock; the Tristan has a double zipper on the bags will accommodate a lock, but no lock is included with the purchase. The bags are lined with water-resistant nylon, so there's some protection from spills. The Talulah is just one big compartment; that makes it easy to fit things, but harder to find smaller items. The Tristan has an inside pocket.

What makes these bags different from other bags/luggage pieces not specifically designed for sex toys—besides the lining, the appropriate sizing (not always easy to find) and an appearance that wouldn't be out of place in a bedroom? Well, the handle on the Tristan can be removed to serve as a cuff link to attach two wrist cuffs.

For larger storage, there's the Pleasure Purse, which is made from bonded leather; owners rave about how much they can fit in this bag. There are four inner pockets and three outer pockets. Somewhat surprisingly, there's a non-removable satin lining, so end users will need to be careful to avoid spills. 

Sadly, it comes with a cutesy heart-shaped lock, which makes it somewhat less discreet than it otherwise might have been. And some end users would prefer a combination lock, since little keys can get misplaced.

For Your Nymphomation has gone out of business, but it used to provide a large adult toychest (12 inches wide, 30 inches high and 3.5 inches deep) which could fit under many beds. The company also had a rolling trunk—a smart idea for a large case which can get quite heavy.

Some end users like this type of design, with a lot of pouches to keep things separated and easy to find; others find that too fiddly and would prefer a more open design, like one of the bags listed earlier. 

The Sneaky Sack from Holistic Wisdom provides yet another way to hide the sex toys. The interior is made with SOFlux—a waterproof, cleanable fabric commonly used in hospitals. There are front and back pockets as well as the main compartment. 

Hanging the toys in a closet is less convenient than having them in a box or bag that can live closer to the bed, but the Sneaky Sack provides another hidden option for those who feel they need that—and it could work well for travel, too.

Many people just store the sex toys in a nightstand, so it was interesting to find a company that promotes its nightstands for just that purpose. Blu Dot says this about its Modu-licious Bedside Table: "Fits ten T-9 ball gags, a box of tissues, and six issues of Arch Digest." This isn't the tiny drawer so many nightstands have, where there's not much room for the toys. 

Most might regard their own nervous ticks to be highly annoying and mostly unnecessary, but what if those our fidgety movements could be used for the greater good? Well, maybe not the greater good, but at the very least to charge your phone. 

This brings us to MOOV, a graduation project from furniture designer Nathalie Teugels that recently surfaced on the internet due to its ingenious premise. The chair is lined with 288 piezoelectric crystals, so sensors within the chair are activated to electrically charge any plugged in device when it detects movement or pressure. "My goal is to change negative ideas about people who cannot sit still into a positive approach by creating [useful] energy", says Teugels, who also noted her experiences with ADHD helped her to come up with the initial idea. 

The form still seems somewhat crude but the concept is so novel there is surely plenty of potential for growth—that is, unless the world finds out some way soon to make better phone batteries (seriously, it may never happen!).

I can only imagine what the future would look like in this scenario: you're in the middle of a city with no outlet in sight? No problem—just plug into a park bench and get to fidgeting! Our urban landscapes could slowly turn into public spaces full of wiggly bodies for the sake of fully charged devices...

Whatever the future holds with this chair, all I know is as a perpetual desk-fidgeter myself, I'm in desperate need of it.

What will sex toys look like in 2050? Will porn finally make virtual reality popular? Are we in the midst of a design revolution in erotic products? Over the last month we've explored the frontiers of intimacy and technology through our special editorial series, the Core77 Sex-Tacular. Through conversations with educators and practitioners working in the fields of intimacy and design, we were able to better understand the landscape of today's intelligent sex toys and glimpse into the future of tech-enabled sexual interactions.

Justin DiPego's "Zero Gee Spot," Grand Prize winner of our Sex Toys 1-Hour Design Challenge

In our 1-Hour Design Challenge, we asked you to sketch out a vision for sex toys of the future that incorporate current or speculative technologies. From "smart" underwear to pheremone-powered room sprays, you guys impressed us and our panel of distinguished judges with your innovative approaches to intimacy. The grand prize winner, Justin DiPego's "Zero Gee Spot" (above) imagines a self-contained, reactive love seat to stabilize couples in zero-gravity conditions as space travel and new Mars colonies require intimacy in new environments. See more about Zero Gee Spot, comments from our judges and the Runner-Up concepts, Mark Salerno's "Rocker" and Robert Hanson's "Breath" here.

But before we look forward we have to look backwards. Going back all the way to the Paleolithic era, our editors dig up the short version of the long history of sex toys. (Warning: there are stone dildos and terrifying mechanical objects in this roundup.)

And in this age of intelligent sex toys and app-enabled long distance relationships, our editors took a survey of the current landscape of sex and technology with an in-depth exploration of Virtual Reality porn projects, Crave's redesign of the bullet vibrator, and an interview with the author of Objects of Desire, a coffee table book and "showcase of modern erotic objects."

"I do not like the trend of attaching something to your phone to turn it into a vibrator. A phone is one of the dirtiest things around—why would someone want to put that near their clitoris when there are so many other more practical options out there?" --Rita Catinella Orrell, author of Objects of Design

We asked designer Jinsop Lee to share his views on multi-sensory design by explaining to the rest of us why sex is so good. Dan Chen, a MIT Media Lab Research Assistant and inventor of the Robot Intimacy Technology (RIT) explained how robotics can transcend normal notions of what humans need in order to feel loved and comforted. And designer and educator Judith Glover shares about her sex toy design course at RMIT and argues for a more design-focused approach in the sex toy industry in her interview with Core77.

A project from Glover's class called Kuma-Kan uses the aesthetic and cultural power of "kawaii"(cute) culture to more easily address the difficulties around the subject of Vaginismus for young girls in Asia.

And we wrapped up our coverage with our in-house organization editor Jeri Dansky sharing her tips on storing sex toys. Sure, your nightstand drawer can do the trick, but if you're ready to graduate into some purposeful storage options, and love design, read Jeri's pro tips. Maybe reading our Sex-tacular coverage has inspired you to amass a large collection of toys and baubles. This roundup of storage solutions is our gift to you.

Bookmark and read all of our Sex-tacular coverage here and look out for our next 1-Hour Design Challenge launching next week!

SIGGRAPH 2016 is coming up in July, and given that this year's theme is "Render the Possibilities," their publicity team has put together a video showing you just how wide those possibilities are. After combing through the last five years' worth of submissions for their annual computer animation festival, they've selected the best-of-the-best and edited them together:

Though computer animations are utilized in industrial design, it is of course the entertainment industries—videogames, movies—that have the larger budgets and draw the deepest teams of animators. I can't help but feel a twinge of envy watching these clips, but I suppose none of us got into ID for the glory.

SIGGRAPH 2016 runs from July 24th to the 28th in Anaheim, California, and you can register here. Hopefully they won't lure you away from our profession.