For three decades, I built campaigns that perpetuated consumption disguised as aspiration. My work as a Creative Director in luxury automotive marketing involved a particular alchemy: making perfectly functional vehicles feel inadequate, so consumers would embrace the manufactured urgency of upgrading to something newer, shinier, and ultimately just as temporary. While I mastered the pixel-perfect precision and sleek lines of that world, a growing internal conflict emerged: my own work was designed to disappear, built to sell objects destined for replacement rather than permanence.

My furniture practice now stands in direct opposition to everything I once promoted. Where I once designed for obsolescence, I now build for permanence, creating bespoke hardwood pieces that apply rigorous design thinking to objects that forge lasting bonds between maker, owner, and the material itself.