Tracking Hours Even When It Hurts
I was staring at a pile of rejected chair joints in my workshop last Tuesday—each one a failed attempt at a connection that almost worked—when I realized my time logs…
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I was staring at a pile of rejected chair joints in my workshop last Tuesday—each one a failed attempt at a connection that almost worked—when I realized my time logs…
Read moreI have a shelf in the back of my studio dedicated to what I call the “ghosts”—a collection of warped plywood, botched joints, and expensive mistakes. Most design textbooks will…
Read moreI was staring at a pile of scrap birch and a half-finished joinery prototype at 2:00 AM, wondering why the “perfect” digital render looked so much better than the physical…
Read moreI was halfway through surfacing a walnut slab for a client’s dining table when the grain suddenly gave way to a hairline check that looked more like a canyon. My…
Read moreI was staring at a walnut tabletop last Tuesday, surrounded by a fine, suffocating cloud of dust that seemed to coat every single surface in my studio, when I realized…
Read moreI remember standing in my studio ten years ago, staring at a sheet of plywood that felt far too large to be useful, paralyzed by the sheer scale of it.…
Read moreI was staring at a half-finished walnut sideboard last Tuesday, the scent of sawdust thick in the air, when I realized the joinery I’d spent three days perfecting was fundamentally…
Read moreI have a drawer in my studio filled with graphite-smudged scraps that most people would call failures, but to me, they are the most honest parts of my career. There…
Read moreI have a shelf in my studio dedicated entirely to the “almosts”—the chair legs that were too aggressive, the joinery that failed the stress test, the finishes that looked like…
Read moreI remember standing in my studio back in ’08, surrounded by half-finished walnut carcasses and a stack of invoices that felt more like a death warrant than a business record.…
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