For more than twenty years, I have made my living creating digital media. I have spent my career producing photographs, videos, and imagery that exist only as patterns of light on screens and data on distant servers. Yet there is something unsettling about a life’s work that could disappear the moment the electricity stops flowing.

Digital creations survive only through constant maintenance. They must be copied, stored, and preserved by someone willing to invest time, energy, and resources to keep them alive. Without that effort, they simply fade into silence.

Knifemaking began as my answer to that impermanence.

In the forge, I’ve rediscovered a different kind of art: one that occupies the physical world. A knife does not depend on software updates, cloud storage, or the next generation of technology. It has weight, texture, and presence. It can be held, used, passed down, and remembered.

A digital work requires energy to preserve. A handmade object requires energy to destroy.

Every knife I make is an attempt to create something real. Something that will outlast me, bearing the marks of human hands and the story of its creation. Steel, wood, brass, and stone age alongside their owners. They gather history instead of losing relevance.

In a world increasingly defined by the temporary and the virtual, I choose to make objects that endure.