Growing up in Brooklyn, New York, I remember no particular attraction to woodworking. It snuck up on me throughout the years, morphing from economic necessity at the beginning, to the passion it is today. My wife and I moved to Madison, Wisconsin after finishing school, up to our necks in student loans. Without money for furniture, we could live only on the bare necessities – or I could try building things myself. The design and building process was relaxing and therapeutic. A wall unit and a coffee table were my first pieces, using simple tools in a limited workspace: My “table saw” and “shop” were a Skilsaw and sawhorses on plastic sheeting in the living room of one apartment, then the spare bedroom of another. Books and magazines were my early teachers followed by videos and the internet.
I never stopped building furniture.
I was always making furniture but the real jump forward came when I had the opportunity to spend a winter at a professional woodworking school, the Center for Furniture Craftsmanship in Maine.