Moving in to Fab Lab Tuyuryaq

Sunrise on Bristol Bay in Togiak, Alaska

Hackerspaces and FabLabs get started in lots of different ways. Often it’s a group of friends that already have a lot of tools and decide to rent a space to pool their resources. Others are built into institutions, like universities and libraries.

Fab Lab Tuyuryaq (that’s the Yu’pik spelling of Togiak) has a more peculiar start: it’s one of a few labs around the world that was established out of an NSF grant as the result of a research proposal. I wasn’t around for the years of coordination since a 2010 FabLab demonstration at a convention of the Alaska Federation of Natives. It was the meeting of minds between tribal council members of Togiak, and people from the University of Alaska and University of Illinois that got the ball rolling on a grant proposal that would finally get funding in 2014. I was asked to take the lead on ordering the equipment and materials to fully stock a lab within our budget and finally to fly out and unbox, assemble, and test all the equipment.

After flying from Chicago to Anchorage on a 737, I took a little Saab 340 turboprop where they hand out earplugs instead of snacks for the 90 minute trip to Dillingham, and finally, one of the daily cargo planes took me over the Alaskan marshes to Togiak. I got to peak over the pilot’s shoulder on that one. Just me and a bunch of Amazon Prime packages in the back.

The space was perfect for the lab: the backbone of a traditional canoe hung from the ceiling, and the building was situatued in the middle of downtown, right between the post office and the general store. At first it was packed full with dozens of boxes large and small that had been shipped over the past few months, but over the course of the first week it took the shape of a computer lab. Local handymen built sturdy hardwood tables and stools, and other furniture was rummaged from the local ‘Office Depot’ — an abandoned school down the street that was full of tables and chairs and other office supplies, open for the picking if you’re friends with the mayor.

Before it was a FabLab, this space was occupied by the local Boys and Girls club, so groups of kids knew it well and would knock on the doors after school. Though it was often a nuisance to supervise a bustling building of middle schoolers, I was glad to teach them how to use the sticker cutters and 3D printers — they showed up almost every day wanting to make something and I’m not the kind of person that says ‘no’ to people who want to learn.

But sometimes they were interrupting and just wanting to play games. Once when it was getting out of hand, a young girl noticed that I wasn’t as bossy as I was 5 minutes ago, and she hypothesized, “You’re one of those people that just gets quiet when you’re upset, huh?” And I nodded my head yes and she decided to take over for me and raised her voice to tell people to clean up after themselves. Keep taking command, Piccola!

Another night, I finally met some of the older kids that were going to high school there. They were quiet, but picked up skills really quickly. It was crowded when it was getting close to curfew, and a police officer stopped in to see why so many people were crowded in the building. After a quick tour of the lab he revealed he went to art school in Phoenix before getting a job as a policeman in Alaska, and he said he hoped he would get to use the equipment too.

Consider this a draft. I want to sit down and flesh this idea out, but:

Equally well equipped as the electronics hobbyists and inventors in Shanghai, Chicago, the investment of fabrication equipment may be an equalizing factor in bringing the same opportunities to rural and dense urban areas.

A big idea with establishing this lab is it may allow locals to develop skills that can be paid to remote workers. Instead of learning a skill and getting hired to leave the town, locals could bring income into the community by working from the lab.

Some replacement parts for salvaged work tables. Feet and cable guides.

Digital embroidery was really popular. I love setting up classrooms with sewing machines. A couple of kids in any group have likely dealt with threading a sewing machine so they can become helpers very quickly.

Some fun with broken glass:

Playing with broken glass: Laser etchings make ghosts over Togiak

A picture we received a few months after setting the lab up, a village elder’s portrait laser etched into a whale bone.

A couple of examples of Bristol Bay locals using 3D scanning and printing before this lab was set up. Bones from a whale carcass are being meticulously scanned in full color with a NextEngine laser scanner. A machinist explained to me how useful it is to print a block of plastic to test dimensions. The plastic is much easier to machine or just sand down until it fits than using a block of steel. Once he’s happy with the fit, he can machine it manually from a block of steel.

Simple, free screen capture with FFMPEG

Once you have ffmpeg installed and added to your PATH (see my previous guide), screen capture with audio is simple. Well, hopefully it’s simple following these directions, it took a while for me to figure it out.

On Windows 7/8/10

Windows uses a capture device called ‘gdigrab’ to do screen capture, and ‘dshow’ to capture audio and video input devices. Open your powershell, and type the following command to find out what your audio device is called.

ffmpeg -list_devices true -f dshow -i dummy

You should see output like the following. Notice in the sound settings on the right (you can get here by right clicking your volume icon on the toolbar and listing Playback or Recording devices), two devices are listed. Unless the device is plugged in and ready to go, ffmpeg doesn’t see it. It also truncates the name, so “Microphone (High Definition Audio Device)” becomes “Microphone (High Definition Aud” — it’s this exact string, quotes and all, that gets returned in the command line that’s important for the audio capture command.

Once you know what your audio device is called, you can stream it as input alongside your screen capture. First, though, I highly recommend changing your screen resolution to 1280 x 720 or 1920 x 1080, the high-def resolutions that youtube supports. This will simplify the transcoding process and result in a sharp video (as opposed to asking FFMPEG to downsample my 3000 x 2000 screen, which would screw up the aspect ratio. Much simpler to just record a screen already set to a useful HD resolution.) When you’re all set to record, run this command (with your audio device after -i audio:)

ffmpeg -f gdigrab -i desktop -f dshow -i audio="Microphone (High Definition Aud" -vcodec libx264 YOUR_NAME_HERE.mp4

That runs ffmpeg with the desktop as one input (-i), and the microphone as the second input (-i). The vcodec libx264 flag uses the h.264 mpeg encoder, which I found necessary to get a sharp, unpixelated video.

If you have no interest in recording audio, you can omit the second input device, and your command will look something like:

ffmpeg -f gdigrab -i desktop -vcodec libx264 YOUR_NAME_HERE.mp4

If you’re counting pennies and want to limit your file size, using the framerate flag (-framerate) to grab 5 fps or 10 fps is a great way to do so. Lowering your screen resolution is another option to limit your file size. The official documentation has a million options to peruse.

ffmpeg -f gdigrab -i desktop -framerate 10 -vcodec libx264 YOUR_NAME_HERE.mp4

Once you’ve started recording, your powershell will fill with status updates and error messages. You can minimize it while you work. When you want to stop recording, bring the same powershell back up and hit ‘Q’ on your keyboard to cancel the operation. Powershell may ‘hang’ (aka lock up) for a moment or two while it finishing processing. The video will now exist as the named mp4. Oh, and this happens in whatever directory powershell is focused on, unless you specify a full path for that mp4 (ex. C:UsersFabLabVideosvid.mp4 ).

After hitting ‘q’ to quit (you might hit it twice if it doesn’t respond) you’ll see this:

“exiting normally” — good sign! Go into the directory you ran the command in (C:UsersColten Jackson for me) and find your video. Should be ready to upload to youtube right away!

PomPomBots: Creative Robots for ages 8+ (To be Continued…)

Contributions by Virginia McCreary, Judy Lee, and more FabLabbers

With a “Plushy Robots” all-girls summer camp coming up, Team FabLab was tasked with creating a way for each camper to go home with a robot they programmed themselves with just a couple of constraints: it had to be cheap, so we could make 10 of them, and it had be made of soft materials, since we promised Plushy Robots.

Sketching out different ideas of what could be done with Arduino’s basic servo motor program, I vividly remember Judy (@judieelee) exclaiming in a wide-eyed eureka moment: “Pom Pom Bots”

Since then, we’ve run this activity with hundreds of kids and seen every one of them get comfortable with plugging in the wires of the servo and changing the speed and movement of that servo by adjusting Arduino code. What follows is a lesson plan detailing the steps to run this activity yourself.

Setup & Introduction

If you’re not familiar with poms, they’re the colorful soft balls you can buy in big bags at your local craft store. Together with some googly eyes and hot glue, you can make some pretty adorable creatures. Once you add felt and fuzzy sticks (pipe cleaners) to the mix, the sky’s the limit.

The materials per student for this activity include:

  • Arduino Uno with USB cable
  • Microservo (9 gram)
  • 3 jumper cables

The materials you should have piles of for students to share include:

  • PomPoms of many sizes and colors, Fuzzy Sticks, Felt
  • Googly eyes
  • Scissors for fabric, wire snips for fuzzy sticks.
  • LOW TEMP hot glue guns

In addition to these materials, you will also need a nearby computer lab (we used laptops) to program the Arduinos. This activity involves constructing the robot and programming the robot. How you set up your space will depend on how many participants you have and how many helpers you have.

We had three 8 foot tables for hot gluing and pipe-cleaner-sculpting and two 8 foot tables set up with 10 laptops for a group of 20 kids. We had 6 instructors (sometimes a couple more volunteers) for 20 kids, which was great. I can’t recommend going into an Arduino-programming activity without an instructor per 2 or 3 computers — it’s really important to guide students through the lesson on an individual basis. The success of this activity has been in large part because the instructors are familiar enough with Arduino code so that they can spot typos and common errors right away. Learning perseverance in debugging can wait for another day — we’re trying to get these kids comfortable with programming, to be able to see themselves as programmers, and staring at a screen for more than a few minutes without knowing what’s wrong can be very discouraging.

Start the class by gathering students around a table with some example bots you built yourself. Have the bot running so kids see the result of the activity and get their gears turning. We often use this time to egg the kids into a conversation on robots in general. You get to ask kids, “What is a robot, anyway? Is it a machine that does something for us? At what point does a machine become a robot? Does it have to make decisions for itself? What’s the difference between following instructions and making decisions?”

I encourage you to ask kids what they think of robots and what they think the future holds any chance you get, you’ll be surprised with what they come up with. My favorite exchange that’s happened during this activity:

At what point would you call a computer intelligent?

“When it makes you happy”


Original file left: docx pdf Original file right: docx pdf

The Occasional Inspiration

An antipodist spinning a parasol with a pair of puppets on her feet. The puppets’ expressions of excitement and frustration were controlled from the jugglers toes. A cow girl on a pogo stick whose lasso doubled as her jump rope.

One minute the ringmaster is coaxing cupcakes and cookies from children in the front row, and the next she accepts a beer from the crowd (“Can you keep it closed for now? I’m still working on this one.” she tells them.)

Soft Circuit Swatches with Surface Mount LED

Creating small electronics out of uncommon materials is a hobby of mine. I think it’s fun to show that electronics isn’t limited to circuit boards, and computers don’t have to be stuffed inside boxes. Especially when FabLab is exhibiting for school age kids who might change their minds about whether they’re interested in CS and ECE, I’m happy to show off a wide variety of computers, usually various arduino-powered objects.

Aside from having interesting widgets to show off, I mostly enjoy the challenge of building something with materials I haven’t seen used before. Instead of sewing LEDs on top of fabric, I wanted to integrate the LEDs into the fabric, so I used a hand loom to make a patch of fabric, using stainless steel thread as my weft. Knots have never made sense to me, so setting up the loom was especially challenging.

I really can’t think of anything to do with this, so for now it’s just a tech-demo. I’d love to hear your ideas.

I really appreciate what Adafruit and Sparkfun do to make small electronics available in sew-able packages (such as the Flora and Gemma microprocessors from Adafruit, and the Lilypad from Sparkfun), but I never really liked that the components were still bonded to a chunk of fiberglass circuitboard — it limits the flexibility of the fabric where it’s sewn and it looks bulky. With that and the extra expense of those products in mind, I wanted to come up with a strategy that allows surface mount components be embedded into a flexible material. SMD is the cheapest package for many parts — we order these 1206 size LEDs at 2 or 3 cents apiece on eBay.

Stranded copper soldered directly to these LEDs are sewn into leather which was lasered to punch holes and provide guides for the wire. This is just a test swatch, I have it in mind that lasering the holes and traces like this would provide a way to wire fairly complex 2-layer circuits (since traces could cross to opposite sides of the leather to avoid intersecting). The parts can sit flush with the surface of the leather, and the leather can flex without dislodging the parts — they aren’t bonded to the substrate, just pulled against it by the copper stitches. This also makes it surprisingly repairable. At one point I melted an LED after stitching everything together, and it only took a minute to un-solder and drop in a fresh LED.

For the leather circuits, I’m looking forward to trying to do 7-segment displays with the same LEDs, but embedded the microcontroller and battery holder directly into the material. I’m imagining interesting tabletop radios and clocks that exhibit their circuitry on their surface.

A quick demonstration of both circuits:

A night on the edge of Paolo Soleri’s arcology.

OR, I visited utopia and just have some cameraphone pictures to show for it.

Mediterranean Cypress trees make up just as much of the skyline as Arcosanti’s poured concrete habitats. I love it so much.

I don’t remember where I first heard about Arcosanti, but at some point I came across Paolo Soleri’s drawings: reimaginings of what cities could look like. I read about his philosophy of culture as an emergent property of architecture: that it is the tight integration of live-work spaces and the multitude of possible pathways that exist in urban settings that give rise to creative exploits — in the arts as well as politics and individuals’ organization of their own lives.

I looked at masterful drawings of megacities that reminded me of my own childhood drawings of space colonies. I was into sci-fi and the prospect of interplanetary civilizations, or merely humanity on the run in giant tin cans lined with pasture and crops lit by artificial skies. But Soleri’s visionary megacities were earthbound, situated on cliffs, in deserts and other harsh environments. More than just drawings tho, he actually went and built one. An experimental city in the Arizona desert, halfway between Phoenix and Flagstaff. I visited in September of 2014.

Paolo Soleri was a student of Frank Lloyd Wright. Student. Even though he had already earned his Ph.D in architecture in Italy, he became an apprentice at Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright’s desert school of architecture. FLW is highly regarded for his blending of the outdoors with indoors, creating homes that echoed their landscape and brought copious sunlight and scenery into living spaces. But he also had a less highly lauded vision, one that celebrated personal freedom afforded by the personal car — a new machine invented and popularized within the span of FLW’s career. “Broadacre City” sought to give everyone their personal space. An illuminating critique can be found on PaleoFuture. Apparently, Frank Lloyd Wright considered Urbanism a scourge on humanity.

His apprentice Paolo Soleri, however, considered Suburbanism a scourge on nature, and didn’t think it did much good for people, either. When I visited Arcosanti last year, the spaces he built made a point. You don’t have to give up the feeling of wide open space to live in an urban environment. Soleri’s vision was for humans to build their steel and concrete all in one, uninterrupted mass — and outside of that, leave nature uninterrupted as well. Whether walking along the edge of the city, having a meal in the cafeteria, or getting into bed in one of the guest rooms, there is always an unending view of wilderness, from the city’s edge to the horizon. Just as Frank Lloyd Wright managed to integrate the landscape with the interior of homes, Paolo Soleri brought wilderness and sunlight into the design of an entire city.

Jessica and I climbed on top of a concrete dome — the roof of a workshop, and talked as we watched desert thunderstorms rolled by in the distance. There was absolute quiet here. Instead of the droning sounds of cars and trains and climate control, the night air was punctuated by distant laughter, or the occasional sneeze. The architecture had invited us to climb onto roofs by virtue of how smoothly the sidewalk transitioned onto them — it was all poured concrete, and nothing really denoted public property from private property. The apartments opened up to balcony-like spaces that were accessible from the sidewalk just as well, which gave the city a strong sense of horizontalism and equality. We were all guests on someone else’s creation.

The main economy of Arcosanti at present is giving tours of the city and the casting of artistic bronze bells. There’s a poetry to the bells’ sand casting process: it is essentially a miniature version of how many of the city’s major structures were poured.

An economy run on bronze bells doesn’t bode too well for the city’s population of 50–60 artists and architects, but I think Soleri’s vision still holds a lot of weight. His drawings often include “automated production” deep in the guts of the megacities, and I like to imagine what that would look like in the Hackerspace/FabLab context of humans partnering with robots to generate the stuff we enjoy and consume. Take the concrete planters outside the guestrooms: iron rails on the edge, just begging for a CNC gardening machine to zoom back and forth every hour checking for crop growth and disease. Perhaps an atmosphere of invention and experimentation could bring more tourists through the city, and perhaps the production of more than just bells (beautiful as they are) could start an economy and a culture that starts nudging the 1970s monument towards its visionary goals.

Drawings of Kowloon Walled City (via Spoon-Tomago) vs drawings from Soleri’s The City in the Image of Man

Building Brackets around the C-LEG prosthetic

This is Part Three. See: Part One, Part Two

Started out with some photogrammetry to capture the geometry of the C-LEG, which will hopefully allow me to 3D print a bracket that fits the contours of the the C-LEG precisely.

This first scan was enough to play around with, but ultimately the glossiness and the bright sunlight caused enough gaps and distortions that I had to do a photoshoot later that night using our CNC machine as a light box. The even lighting from the LED rope was just the trick.

The next step was selecting a portion of the C-LEG’s surface to extrude into a form fitting shell. Blender was used to create a mirror image of the scan, and MeshLab was used to align the two sides and fill in the holes so I had a reconstruction of the entire CLEG (Agisoft was only able to reconstruct one side of it — I could of went back and tried another photoshoot, but decided it would be faster to just duplicate the half that worked). In the video you can see the mesh of the whole C-LEG next to the original scan.

Blender and MeshLab were used back and forth here: Blender allowed me to select a portion of the mesh freehand and export as a separate STL. MeshLab allowed me to offset this surface using ‘Uniform Mesh Resampling’ and then construct a volume around the surface using Uniform Mesh Resampling with ‘Absolute Distance’ checked off. This created an excessive and messy edge, however, so I brought it into Blender to perform a boolean intersection, extruding the surface that I selected earlier outward to overlap with the portion of the new mesh that I wanted to keep. With that cut performed, I used MeshLab one last time to perform a ‘Surface Reconstruction: Poisson” to smooth the corners. To cut a slit in the back of the model I used Tinkercad, because it’s quicker to align and subtract a cube, knowing what I know.

And it actually clipped on the way I had hoped, wrapping around the edges — but there was a considerable gap. The inner diameter of the print was 60mm, while the C-LEG is 55mm wide, so I uploaded the STL to tinkercad at 91% of the original size to continue to prototype #2:

I used some cylinder, cube, and hexagon shapes to throw together clamps that I can add nuts and bolts to for this print, to see if I can really clamp down on the C-LEG enough to hang some weight off of it.

Ended up printing copies at 93% and 96% of original size. It is not a perfect fit, but once tightened down with bolts, holds on pretty well. This one cracked due to the nut turning against the plastic — the white ABS must have shrunk more than the grey ABS, which had holes big enough for the nuts to sink into without forcing it.

Designing brackets for cLeg cosmetic fairings

A continuation of: Blending and Bending Prosthetic Leg Fairings

I wanted to design a 3D printable file that would allow me to clamp my acrylic fairings to the cLeg. Luckily Kay and Gabe created a pretty solid model of the cLeg itself so I could use its contours in my design. Again, I had to cut the model down manually in Blender because netfabb does an awful job of exporting STL (hadn’t yet investigated if this is an actual or a free-demo-imposed limitation of the software).

I also used Blender to multiply the scale by 1,000 before importing into Tinkercad.

I like Tinkercad because it makes it super easy to perform boolean functions on complex stuff like our leg here. If you’re a tinkercadder, try ungrouping the model so you can see how I made a cross section of the leg: Tinker This

And I went on to improvise a way to screw two parts together — this is very much a test fit, to see if the idea makes any sense, to see if screwing two plastic pieces on with pressure is enough to keep it from falling off.

I went back and forth about 3D printing holes for nuts and bolts, but decided I would drill it out of the finished plastic — “machining” is way more accurate than printing for this kind of thing.

OK, the original Kinect scan was not very dimensionally accurate…I guess I could have compared measurements of the model with measurements of the object, that’s what I get for trusting technology -.- I can still use the blocks of plastic for practice fitting, though. They don’t clamp around the c-Leg, but I tested screwing the pieces together and drilling into the plastic to insert a brass threaded insert, and with a few taps of a hammer that turned our really nice.

Of course, the chunky tinkercad design isn’t so fashionable, but it served its purpose to confirm that I need to press the shape of the leg more accurately (the front fairing doesn’t sit flush with the printed model at all) and that countersunk M5 screws will do a nice job of securing the fairing to the bracket, though I’ll have to play with melting a countersink so the head of the screw doesn’t stick out the back.

Continued here:

Hackerspace on Treasure Hill

Visiting FabLab Taipei and OpenLab Taipei

Though I griped about Chinese internet censorship, FabLab Taipei was the real reason I hopped on a plane for a detour the last few days of my trip. Their facebook group is always sharing amazing projects and a video I saw at Fab11 of their Maker Faire showed a big, active, and creative community. I messaged the group the day before I arrived but didn’t hear back, so I got in touch the old fashioned way and showed up at their door.

I was greeted by a man named Sega Liu, who was working on his iteration of a fold-up 3D printer. He gave me a tour of the multi-room facility, which was punctuated by a number of surprising projects: incredible corrugated cardboard & resin surfboard (Ah cardboard, always reminds me of home), intricate laser cut wood paneling and an impressive cardboard-folded giant frog mask. The lab was stocked with capable machines, including an assortment of 3D printers, the familiar Roland circuitboard milling machine, and a very heavy duty CNC machine that doesn’t get much use (it runs the unfortunate Roland software, though it accepts plain text serial data not so different from GCode, so perhaps the more modern & open source ChiliPeppr could be modified to control it.) There’s a sizable laser cutter, lots of electronics equipment, and in the basement: a comprehensive wood-shop.

I felt immediately at home in the space, which had a lot in common with CUCFabLab: it is open to the community relatively late at night (every day 6–10PM), has every machine you could possibly need to make awesome stuff, and a lot of the furniture, well, has a hand-me-down feel (which I like better than the try-not-to-scratch-the-table newness of some places. Gives it character 😉

I chatted with Sega about my work back at CUCFabLab. It always surprises people to think FabLabbing could be a full time job. FabLab Taipei, like many hackerspaces, is all volunteer. I told Sega about how CUCFabLab has grown from an all volunteer staff to employing a dozen people at times (though I’ll write another time about the trade-offs in establishing a paid staff among volunteers). At some point in all this he decided that Ted, the main benefactor of the lab, would want to meet me and called him back to the lab (I guess I had just missed him).

Ted told me about the history of the lab, and how they use to have membership fees but eventually switched to free membership after establishing that it was a hard sell and wasn’t helping much with rent anyway. Apparently, Taipei is awash with low-cost designers and prototypers to the point where even university students don’t design things for themselves, they can hire someone to work for them for the price of a typical hackerspace membership. It is an interesting problem in Taiwan as in China, when building things is seen as something of a lower-class occupation: how do you catch people’s interest with the prospect of “Do It Yourself!”

Of course, the premise of a FabLab is to create something new, and in my experience learning to use a machine gives you a lot of ideas about what can be created with it — so if you want to design something (even to have someone else build it), if you want to be innovative, you could start by learning the various styles of fabrication. I think as people’s interest is piqued by the surprising inventions exhibited at Maker Faires and workshops, they will be enticed to try it themselves.

After telling Ted that I was interested in learning about as many maker communities as possible, he said “We better get over to OpenLab then, you can come to FabLab any night but OpenLab is Wednesdays, lets go.”

Exterior of FabLab Taipei, Interior of cab across town.

Ted hailed a cab to take us across town to OpenLab Taipei, past a temple and through narrow corridors. I had just read about this neighborhood earlier that day: an illegal settlement of improvised architecture that the city chose to preserve and transform into a collective of artist studios called Treasure Hill. I was surprised to find out that a hackerspace was nestled among the concrete cubes stacked up here, but it certainly fit in among the artist studios.

The most striking project sitting on the shelf was a 3D printed Immorton Joe mask complete with ribbon cable hairdo. A very DIY shortwave radio built with point-to-point soldering on a copper board was being tuned into Chinese music. Scattered on the table were other projects in progress including a recycled CD drive pen plotter. A pile of vintage diagnostics gear completed the hackerspace aesthetic, and an impressive laser-etched stamp stood ready to print more banners for promoting the space.

We were just here for an hour before people were packing up. Ted and I took the metro one stop to the Shida night market to keep chatting about maker communities. There was some fantastic barbeque chicken (was that cinnamon? Five spice?) and instead of bars in this area there are convenience stores with barstools in a sitting area — kind of neat, you pay convenience store prices for a bar experience. We talked about 3Nod underwriting Fab12 and how Fab Academy would work for a Chinese student body (the material will be translated on a rolling basis and Chinese fab labs will work a few weeks behind English language labs).

The next day I visited the Treasure Hill artist village again, this time in the daylight. It has fantastic art scattered around the open areas and on top of roofs. I peaked into a small cafe called Tadpole Point and saw they had burgers with fried egg on the menu so I put in an order and browsed the art books lining the wall. The room had a great view out the screen door overlooking the interstate and the valley. According to wiki this location was originally fortified for anti-aircraft defense, but it’s a good place to enjoy the scenery, too. With a great burger served on a solid wood butcher block and a breeze through a window of the poured concrete room, I reflected on how cheap materials can be arranged so elegantly, in the case of architecture and for food.

Unfortunately I didn’t get to find out more about the Conductive Ink Experiment nor the More Than Useful Detective Lab.