About

I was first taught woodworking as a teenager by Gunnar Lind, a Swedish furniture maker and Jazz musician. His favorite woodworking saying was, “Close enough for Jazz.” He wanted me to throw away my ruler and judge proportion by eye. He taught me to use an unmarked stick as a gauge. The tics you mark on the stick indicating the various measurements acting as a history of the cabinet you are making.

Years later I was lucky enough to study with James Krenov. While Gunnar was all about the grandiose gesture; James was all about getting rid of the extraneous. It is a harder action to remove an element then to add. One of the most important lessons I learned from James is how to draw a “live” curve. A curve should never be part of a mathematical circle. A circle is a relentlessly static form, something never seen in nature.

My work mixes the fluidity of nature with the architectonics of urbanization. I grew up in what was at the time a farming community and it greatly informs my work. The tension between the natural world and all of its disorder and humanities’ desire to dominate and instill order upon chaos. We cannot escape the delight of chaos.