My Roots
Aside from the distantly vague memories of learning from pictures in library books, too young to read, my first true woodworking memory came in the form of an injury. In an attempt to bore out a section of broomstick handle as a scope for a toy rifle I'd recently made. The drill bit breached the broomstick and into my hand. That was my first lesson in the respect of power tools. I was five and the year was 1982.
That year the fence around our yard came down and became my first stack of lumber. At 39 cents a pound, nails became the obvious choice purchase on allowance day.
Months later my dad brought home an old plastic air powered organ that I quickly became fond of. Beginning from one end to the other I recognized the melody to 'Joy to the World' and the seed of musicianship was sprouted within me.
Throughout the mid 80's I tinkered with as many power tools as my dad would let me by day and studied the keyboard by night with the unwavering devotion and attention span I still have today.
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It was obvious at a young age that I was going to be either a musician or a woodworker. During my adolescence they gradually became in fierce competition with each other and tension was building up inside of me. The thought of being a musical woodworker was still years away.
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By the early 90's I had begun leaning more towards music and songwriting, using my woodworking more as a means of making things that I couldn't afford. Eventually one of those things I couldn't afford would become a bass guitar.
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It's safe to say that by age 5 I was already doing what I would do my whole life. I just didn't realize how they would mesh until high school.
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