As a kid, I built wooden airplane models, scrapwood forts in the woods behind the house, and woodworking projects with my father. My parents quickly saw my need for more structured creative outlets so they enrolled me in a sculpture class at 12 years old. I soon learned how to draw and paint and hand-letter. I learned how to pitch baseballs and juggle, made Christmas wreaths, painted houses during college, and started working at drafting tables and computers designing books, magazines, signage, logos, and advertising. In my free time, I repaired and refinished antiques and designed and built furniture. Somewhere along the way, I combined my love for graphic design, woodworking, and antiques and began creating original, salvage-inspired sign art to hang in our home — and it wasn’t long before I started commissioning work for others.

As a homeowner (we are in our seventh house), there have been countless, self-taught projects requiring my hands; including framing and drywalling, old-school window glazing, custom built-ins, handmade cabinetry for bedrooms, bathrooms, and home offices, garden fences and arbors for climbing roses, tree pruning (arguably the truest test of one’s design sense) and lending my hands in the garden at the direction of my artistic wife Julie. And now, fifty-plus years after that first sculpture class, I am carving whales — very large whales — and this will keep my hands busy for a while.

My hands are usually a mess and now arthritis is setting in. I can’t get my favorite rings on my fingers anymore and my wedding band is a permanent fixture. But it has all been so worth it, as it is through my hands that life is so thoroughly enjoyed.