A Decade of Doing One Thing Wrong
I was looking at a stack of rejected chair prototypes in my studio this morning—the ones with the failed joinery and the impossible curves—and I realized they are actually more…
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I was looking at a stack of rejected chair prototypes in my studio this morning—the ones with the failed joinery and the impossible curves—and I realized they are actually more…
Read moreI was staring at a pile of rejected chair legs last Tuesday—walnut, scarred by a misplaced router bit, sitting in the corner of my studio—when the question hit me again.…
Read moreI spent most of my twenties believing that “process” was something you could buy—a proprietary software suite, a specific set of expensive drafting tools, or a high-concept studio ritual that…
Read moreI remember sitting in my studio three years ago, surrounded by the scent of sawdust and the heavy, silent weight of a project that had simply stalled. I had spent…
Read moreI was standing in my workshop last Tuesday, staring at a walnut joinery component that refused to sit flush, feeling that familiar, hot prickle of frustration in my neck. I…
Read moreI spent most of my thirties surrounded by the smell of sawdust and the low hum of a CNC router, convinced that “inspiration” was something that arrived in a lightning…
Read moreI was digging through a cardboard box in the corner of my studio yesterday—one of those graveyard bins where I keep every failed prototype, each one tagged with a handwritten…
Read moreI have a shelf in my studio crowded with what most people would call trash: warped plywood scraps, failed joinery, and sketches that look more like frantic scribbles than “art.”…
Read moreI remember standing in my studio three years ago, staring at a hand-turned walnut stool that had cost me six weeks of my life, only to realize I was about…
Read moreI spent most of my twenties thinking I needed a high-end studio, a suite of expensive software, and a massive library of “inspiration” to be taken seriously. It’s a lie…
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