I’ve been given the opportunity to do what I love as a job. I get to play. I get to build something new every day. Because of that, I try to give that back wherever I can.
I run a welding and woodworking program through the Schuster Foundation—bringing kids into my shop and giving them ia place to build, think, and figure things out.
It’s a controlled environment. But what happens inside it isn’t. They learn how to work with their hands. How to solve problems. How to think for themselves. We play. We experiment. And I let them lead. If a kid wants to make something—we make it.
One of them wanted to build a guitar. I had never done it. So we figured it out together.
Outside of that space, the conditions change. I build for a haunted trail in my community, large-scale environments, temporary structures, things that only exist for a short time but have to feel real when you’re inside them.
I’ve worked on the restoration of a WWII submarine, steel built for pressure, still carrying it. It’s run by a small group of older Navy veterans, with almost no funding. They’re working to keep it from being lost. The last two years, volunteer welders have shown up, one week the first year, two weeks the next. It’s hard, physical work. We’ll go back again next year. And the year after that.
Different environments.
Different constraints.
Same hands.
Same decisions.
Desolate Pariah Studios 