I had watched my dad tackle all kinds of projects when I was a kid. He built our house out of oak that he sawed himself from the property and repaired all sorts of things around the house and farm. I still have a rifle that is a testament to his abilities; one of the key components of the firing mechanism was worn out, so he made a replacement part with a file and hammer. You can still see the stamp on the piece of donor metal that says, “ACME CAN OPENER”. I wonder if my mom went to open a can one day, only to find the can opener was now part of a .22 rifle. He often got creative with materials at hand like that, rather than simply buying something new…even if it would’ve been quicker and probably not cost THAT much. I would say it’s because he grew up in The Great Depression, but they were so self-sufficient way back here in Jones Holler I think it was just business as usual; making do with what you had was just how it was done.

   I think I was around four or five years old, and I don’t remember if I asked my dad to make a sailboat, or if he just decided that I should have one…but I do remember almost every detail of that little boat some 50 years ago. The smell of the Douglas Fir wood, the dark green enameled hull and the repurposed paintbrush with the metal ferrule still attached serving as the mast. It was at that precise moment something clicked; I realized that if you needed or wanted something, saving up your money and buying it was not your only option. With raw materials, a few tools and an understanding of how things work, you could not only turn an idea into reality, but you also now had the power to design it however you wanted!
 

 From that moment on (probably to my mom’s dismay) it was my life’s mission to hone my skills as a “Maker of Things”. Little snippets of wood, metal, plastic and paper were my floor covering of choice in those days. Come to think of it, they still are! Nothing was safe…If a malfunctioning alarm clock went to the basement (our purgatory for seldom used or broken things) it was coming apart to see what kind of magical mechanical apparatus made it work. After being smacked in the face by a clock spring, I also gained an appreciation for potential energy and classical physics. Even if I did not know the terms, I now understood the principal.
   

   Fast forward many years, many projects and many forays into different aspects of art, music and mechanical design later, I have quit trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up. I have spent most of my adult life thinking success is a singular place or position in a particular field. I have decided that maybe my life’s work does not have an end goal, but is an exercise in constantly refining one’s craft, learning new things and putting them to use, and building things not as a mere product to be sold…but pieces that are aesthetically pleasing, and ideally inspire the viewer to reflect and want to learn more about the subject it was designed for. Much of my work now focuses on experimental musical instruments from antiquity. Many past designers were not done with their efforts…they simply ran out of time. I feel as though I am picking up the torch and carrying on with their pursuits. Hopefully something I do will inspire someone to carry the flame that is now in my possession. In doing so, it will continue a journey that began some 50 years ago…in a little, green boat.