Woodworking has always been my drug of choice.
I've ridden its waves to the top and dragged along the bottom by the
Much of my work is centered on nature’s small wonders: leaves, flowers,
fruit, sea shells, nuts, etc.. Mountains and oceans overwhelm, I don’t have
a chance. An apple or walnut I can grasp in my hand-there’s that physical
and visceral intimacy. They’re so perfect: shape, texture, color.
I don’t attempt an exact replication of these items within my work, but
rather use these miraculous forms as a starting point in the design process.
I might take the rose thorn and incorporate it into a chair leg, use the
voluptuousness of a pear for a coffee table and the movement of a leaf edge
for a desk.
I like using solid wood for its intrinsic virility and sensuality. You can
pound it, torch it, grind it, glue it, cut it this way and that. Solid wood
maintains its dignity and beauty throughout. The wood is only half the story
though; it’s the design that brings that dignity and that beauty to the
I keep flitting around the edges of bronzing my work or creating them in
fiberglass. Financially it makes sense. Maybe I will, probably sooner than
later. I just need to resolve sharing the process. I like to inhale and
ingest the complete project from the first spoonful to the last burp.
When I complete a piece and think that it’s pretty darn good and that I’m
equally pretty darn good, I get taken down fast the next time I see a flower
or a leaf rustling in the breeze. I realize the best I can do is match
mother nature, but rarely if ever outpace her. On those days I do come up
even with her, I’m as happy as a kid with a double dip, chocolate ice cream