There's a romance in old wood that I can't find in other materials. The grain elevators, old barns, farmhouses and derelict mountain cabins, tell stories of people who lived to a different, more honest rhythm. The driftwood that is washed into the rivers and oceans also holds a story of a changing environment. There is something in the decay evident in old wood that interests me. It's somewhere in these deep lines that the story of each piece lies. My work with driftwood in particular, involves an interpretation of the piece rather than a shaping of the wood itself.
I was born in Kent, England but became interested in old wood during the eight years that I spent in St. Martin, in the Caribbean. It was here that I became the owner of a 39ft wooden sloop whose rebuild was to supply me with an abundance of salvaged material and start me on my journey into the joys of furniture making. In 1998, I moved to Southern Alberta where the effect of the rugged climate on the materials had a different story to tell and took me in a new direction. Beneath any silver-gray weathered fir board lays a deep rich color not found in new wood .
I now make my home on the pacific coast where the powerful presence of the ocean seeps into everything.
My furniture reflects the nature of the materials that I find. These materials are a product of their environment, history geography and climate. When I begin work on a piece, I become a part of its story, a story of endurance and of beauty.