I build slow on purpose.
A piece of furniture should outlast the person who paid for it. That takes time. I'd rather take longer and get it right than rush and have to redo it.

I'm a one-person shop in Lyndonville, Vermont. I've been building custom furniture and restoring heirloom pieces since 2014, working mostly in hardwoods sourced within driving distance of the shop.
Before this, I worked for someone else's shop for a long time. The work was fine. But I wanted to take the time a piece needed, visit the home it was going into, and put my name on every joint. So I went out on my own.
Most projects start with a conversation and a home visit. I want to see where the piece is going before I quote it.

The shop is in Lyndonville, in a building I rebuilt over a couple of summers. Hand tools on the wall, a few machines for the rough work, a bench I built first because every shop needs a good one.
Most of the wood comes from within an hour of here. Cherry from a friend in Danville, maple from a small mill in St. Johnsbury, walnut when I can find it locally. If a project needs something I can't source nearby, I'll tell you up front.
A piece of furniture should outlast the person who paid for it. That takes time. I'd rather take longer and get it right than rush and have to redo it.
I want to see the room, the light, and how the family actually lives. I don't quote a piece until I've stood in the space it's going into.
I've never delivered a piece I wasn't proud of, and I'm not going to start.

“My grandmother's secretary desk was almost unusable. They restored it without erasing what made it hers. I cried a little when I picked it up.”
Tell me what you're thinking. I'll come take a look.