My grandfather's workshop was a playground where my cousin and I would hammer away at the cores of rubber molds, stack and glue glass tiles to roughly sanded scrap wood between taking turns tiptoeing up to the white line that we weren't allowed to cross where lumps of pewter was being reformed into figurines, napkin holders and a seemingly endless parade of trinkets. It wasn't until after that workshop lay dormant that my own began to form, paper, beads and thread soon joined with wire, glass and metal, the thundering of the antique spin caster replaced with the grind of the dremel and the electronic melody of a 3d printer, sketched patterns, digital models and graph paper replacing the tower of rubber molds.
The base materials had changed, but the heart was the same; giving form to the blank canvas that a scrap of metal, pile of beads, empty setting, spool of wire or plastic filament offered. I never had the chance to learn from my grandfather, but in the spark of inspiration, the twinkle of an idea, the diligence of design, the frustration of pulling it all together and the triumph of creation, I follow in his footsteps, striving and creating, bringing form to the inert, and art to entropy.
When people ask what I make, the answer is always a bit difficult. "A little bit of everything," tends to be my answer. The mess of materials across multiple workbenches in multiple rooms, the garage and basement workspaces full of paint, wood and power tools, the mechanics chest of tools that never stays closed and more sandpaper than is really necessary all barely organized so it can be found; the sewing room overflowing with thrifted fabrics, threads, findings and a growing number of sewing machines, the "office" with it's floor to ceiling shelving stuffed full of reference books, art supplies, printed parts, packing materials, beads, wire and everything else, and the closet that's converted into a 3d printing hub with bespoke shelving housing a rainbow of filament flanking a printer that never is still for long.
The joke is that the "Kinetic" in Kinetic Color Foundry isn't from the printer, but from the ADHD wonder who runs the operation who can barely stand still long enough to finish one order before starting the next.