The story
Started at my father's bench.
My dad was a furniture maker and a luthier. He handed me my
first project when I was nine or ten years old, and I've
never really put the tools down since.
By the time I was twenty-two, I had a shop of my own and was
building furniture for our young family and taking on
commissioned pieces on the side. That was decades ago now.
The shop has grown; the reason for it hasn't.
Somewhere along the way I fell for chatoyance — the way
figured wood catches light and shifts as you move around it.
And I fell harder for burls. You never know what's under
the bark. Every one is a small excavation, and the surprises
are the whole reason to keep cutting.
The work here is shaped by the makers I grew up admiring:
George Nakashima, who let the tree keep the last
word, and Thomas Moser, whose joinery still sets
the bar for me. Everything I build sits somewhere on the
line they drew.
Nothing here is made in batches. If two pieces look
similar, it's because they came out of the same tree.
— Greg