I grew up on a mixed farm just outside Cookstown, and I spent a lot of my childhood outdoors; making ponds, watching frogspawn hatch, playing in the hay, walking the rivers and getting into fishing with friends. That early closeness to nature stayed with me. It shaped how I notice things: patterns, structures, how materials behave, and how good design often looks simple because it works.
There’s a craft thread in my family. My grandfather was a joiner who worked for the same company for forty-five years and never took a day off. I didn’t know him, he died when I was very young, but the story of steady work, pride in skill, and turning raw materials into something useful has always mattered.
Over time I’ve come to love the process of making as much as the finished object. Starting with what you have, working with your hands, paying attention, and taking the time to do a job well. That pace brings a kind of calm. The satisfaction is real, and so is the confidence that comes with it.
A big influence on my work is nature’s design. I’m fascinated by how the natural world solves problems: the way spiders build webs, how structures carry strength, how collaboration and adaptation show up everywhere. Those ideas become prompts in the workshop, practical inspiration for shaping, joining, balancing and building.
I hate waste. I work with reclaimed timber wherever possible, keep offcuts for future projects, and prefer repair and re-use over replacing. If there’s a piece of wood or a component that still has a job left in it, I’ll store it away until I find the right job for it.
That mix of nature, craft, design, and a real interest in people, sits at the heart of the workshops and programmes I run. Sessions are designed to be welcoming and confidence-building: clear demonstrations, a calm pace, and space for people to discover their own ideas. I don’t teach, I facilitate, support, and then step back — so people can learn by doing, and leave with something made by their own hands, and a stronger belief in what they can do.
