I came to woodturning through curiosity rather than tradition or formal training, driven by a desire to work directly with my hands. I was drawn to the quiet transformation of pulling a form from something so raw and unshaped. On the lathe, ideas emerge in real time, hesitation becomes visible immediately, and commitment becomes part of the form itself. The wood decides as much as I do. That unpredictability felt honest to me, and it pushed me toward building a practice outside conventional paths.​

 

Teaching myself woodturning meant learning without a roadmap. My practice has grown slowly through trial, research, conversations, and mistakes. I learn by spending time with materials, repeating actions, paying attention, and allowing uncertainty to remain part of the process. Making, for me, is less about executing an idea and more about discovering it along the way.

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I am deeply drawn to things shaped by time: tree rings, weathered surfaces, stones, fragments, and quiet natural forms that carry traces of age and transformation. My background in architecture continues to shape how I think about form, proportion and spatial balance. Observation plays an important role in how I work; photographing, documenting, and simply noticing often become the starting point for new ideas.

 

Inspiration rarely arrives as a fixed concept, but as a feeling or form that stays with me until it finds its way into the work. I am less interested in building a product brand and more interested in building an evolving practice.​​