I grew up smelling the scent of wood every morning, witnessing how a single piece of wood can become something extraordinary.
My grandfather used wood magically and there I was in every corner of his shop counting the seconds so he could pass that virtue to me.
10 years later, I was only a child, but I knew where I was headed, I bought my first saw, my hammer and started from the very bottom, hitting rocks, bringing walls along my way. It was not easy, but I knew my roots and I had someone I can look up to.
20 years later, the smell of wood keeps waking me up in my own shop…