Strive for perfection and accept the results.

There’s something I’ve carried with me throughout my entire career:

Strive for perfection, and accept the results.

That doesn’t mean accepting poor work. It doesn’t mean lowering your standards. It means setting the bar as high as you possibly can, giving the work everything you have, and then understanding that we are human beings working with our hands.

I have another saying that I’ve used for years:

I do museum-grade work. From six feet away, it’s perfect. From six inches away, you can see I’m human—and that I tried my absolute best.

And I believe there’s something important in that.

When I was in school learning the craft, something was drilled into us: power tools remove material.

They get you close. They make us efficient. They do an incredible amount of work.

But the minute that piece hits the bench, everything changes.

Now it’s about accuracy.

It’s about patience.

It’s about working slowly and methodically. It’s about planning your next move and sometimes discovering that the material has a different plan for you.

No two cuts are exactly the same. No two pieces of wood are exactly the same. Grain changes. Conditions change. Your hand changes. Sometimes the work itself tells you what needs to happen next.

And that’s where craftsmanship begins.

Nobody gets to rush you at the bench.

Because rushing doesn’t make you faster.

I learned a long time ago that slow is fast, and fast is slow.

Take the extra minute to check the fit.

Take another shaving with the plane instead of trying to take three.

Look at the grain before you put the chisel to it.

Stop and think before making the cut you can’t put back.

Because that extra minute might save you an hour. It might save the piece. And sometimes it might save something you’ve already spent days creating.

As you gain experience, you absolutely become faster. But speed should be the result of mastery and repetition—not the objective of the work.

There is a big difference between working slowly and working deliberately.

A master craftsman might make something look effortless. What you don’t see are the thousands of hours that made those movements efficient. You don’t see the mistakes, the discoveries, the pieces that didn’t work, or all the times they stopped and asked themselves, Is this right?

That’s what eventually creates speed.

But even after all those years, when the work reaches the bench and accuracy matters, you slow down.

You pay attention.

You respect the material.

And you remember that you’re still human.

So strive for perfection.

Work deliberately.

Never let someone else’s urgency compromise your craftsmanship.

And when you’ve given the work everything you have, step back six feet, look at what you’ve created, and be proud of it.

Then, if you want to humble yourself, walk up to six inches.

You’ll probably find something.

And that’s okay.

It means it was made by a human being who cared enough to try for perfection. 

Oh yeah I can do that for you!

For years, that “F*** it, I’ll figure it out” mindset was exactly how I ran my business. I said yes to everything—mostly out of fear of losing work—and then just made it happen. In the early days, it worked. But over time, as requests piled up and other trades didn’t pull their weight, I became the jack of all trades, master of none—doing whatever it took to keep jobs moving and my schedule on track.

Eventually, all those yeses caught up with me. The work I once loved became the very thing drowning me. Looking back, I should have said no a thousand times and trusted far less.

My mentor, on his deathbed, told me something that stuck: Legacy is just a thought. You’ll be forgotten, and life moves on. Don’t be a slave to the work—be a slave to living and enjoying life.

Those words are my compass now. Sure, I have regrets. But I also have hope, and there’s still time to live differently.

 

Looking ready doesn’t mean you are!

 

This is a clever visual metaphor—showing that appearance alone doesn’t reveal effort or experience, and that real work often dulls the “sharp” look but proves true value.

It also brings to mind the old sayings: you have to letter your work van, or you need a nice van or truck—but not too nice, so you don’t look like you’re making “too much money.” Or that your shop and vehicle must always look perfect for people to believe you’re a person of quality.

While there’s truth in that, there’s also something to be said for a shop that’s always busy and productive, or a van that looks sharp early in the week but shows the wear of a hard week’s work by Friday. Balancing presentation and productivity is an ongoing process that takes hours of attention and dedication.

So don’t be discouraged if your van or truck isn’t brand new, your shop is a little dustier than you’d like, or things aren’t perfectly dialed in. What matters most is the quality of the work that leaves your hands—not just the shine on the surface.

You can be the passenger or the driver in life!

 Driver’s side or passenger’s side—life takes you down both roads. And when it hands you lemons, make the best damn lemonade you can.

I’m reminded of that old proverb: “Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime.” That’s how I see things now.

Have I been burned on payments? Yes. Do I carry regrets? Of course.

But have I failed? No.

Could I have made better choices in life and work? Absolutely.

Still, instead of letting setbacks define me, I pause, reflect, and take pride in how far I’ve come. I enjoy the life I’ve built, the lessons I’ve learned, and the journey I’m on.

Sure, I still want more—but I never forget where I started or how far I’ve traveled.

Life is a journey, and I’m blessed to be living it.

As my mom always said: “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Look in the mirror—stand tall.

You’ve earned your place.

We can do better! Demo day…

 I recently watched a short clip celebrating Demo Day—often dubbed the favorite day, week, or even season for many in construction. It signals new beginnings: fresh contracts, new work, and exciting challenges. But for me, it’s always a bittersweet moment.

While others celebrate, I feel a growing frustration and sadness. Why? Because we, as an industry, continue to fall short when it comes to salvaging, recycling, and reusing materials. Too much is treated as disposable.

I’ve always been the one saying, “Save those 2x’s—they’re perfect for temporary support, blocking, or any number of other uses.” But more often than not, they’re tossed. Bricks, fixtures, cabinetry—so much of it ends up in the dumpster when it could be saved or repurposed. Yes, it takes time. Yes, it takes space. But a simple “free” sign, a quick call to a local restore, or a connection with a salvage yard can make a huge difference—for people and for the planet.

The numbers don’t lie. Construction sites are responsible for a staggering amount of waste—some estimates say up to 30% of all building materials go unused and are discarded. That includes wood, drywall, concrete, and plastics—most of which end up in landfills. Globally, construction and demolition projects generate hundreds of millions of tons of waste every year.

So where does all this waste come from?

• Inefficient Planning & Design: Over-ordering and miscalculations lead to surplus materials.
• Material Waste: Items are damaged, miscut, or simply unused.
• Demolition Debris: Tearing down older buildings generates large volumes of concrete, asphalt, and other debris.
• Poor Waste Management: Without clear systems, recyclable materials get trashed.
• Limited Recycling Infrastructure: A lack of access to recycling facilities only adds to the problem.

We can do better. We have to do better. Salvage what you can. Reuse what’s still good. Pass it on if you don’t need it. It’s not just about saving money or space—it’s about shifting our mindset and taking responsibility for the future of our craft and our planet.

The woodworking shop past, present , future!

 When I was attending the Furniture Institute of Massachusetts under Master Phil Lowe, the shop was divided into two key areas: a roughing mill room and a finish mill room. If you had to choose just one, Phil always said the finish mill room was all you really needed. Twenty years later, that lesson rings truer than ever.

There was a time when I dreamed of owning the titans of the woodworking world—16” jointers, 18–20” planers, 12–18” cabinet saws, the legendary Powermatic 66, step mortisers, tilting-head shapers, 36” bandsaws, variable-speed scroll saws, and the iconic 16” DeWalt radial arm saw. The list went on. The desire was real. And so was the belief that owning them all was necessary.

But that desire—and the need—has faded. At least for me.

Of course, it all depends on the kind of work you’re doing and the space you’re working out of. But for where I am today, while the appreciation for those machines remains, they no longer feel essential.

Now, my 36” bandsaw has been replaced with a more practical 14–18” version. My jointer is 8”. The planer is either a 13” lunchbox or a free-standing Powermatic. The step mortiser has been replaced by the Festool Domino XL and a plunge router. The scroll saw? A Carvex jigsaw suits just fine. While I still have an industrial shaper, I often opt for a basic router table—just an MDF top with a wooden fence. Even the table saw has been reduced to a DeWalt contractor model, paired with a track saw for versatility.

Add some well-tuned hand tools, and suddenly a basement shop or oversized one-car garage doesn’t feel so limiting.

In terms of tool-buying priorities, I still believe essential hand tools come first. After that, I recommend starting with a bandsaw with a reliable fence, followed closely by the jointer and planer—ideally purchased together, investing in the best you can afford. Next would be a contractor saw, plunge router, jigsaw, Domino, and finally, a track saw.

Of course, this order isn’t set in stone. Your needs, space, and the type of work you do will guide your choices. There’s no single right answer—just the realization that the old “go big or go home” mentality doesn’t always hold true.

Work life balance

 

Work-life balance rings truer today than ever. The challenge—for many, including myself—is learning how to separate the two. Even as a business owner, I struggled to know when to tap out after 50–60-hour weeks and just focus on myself and my family.

For 15 years, I worked “half days”—12 hours a day, 6 days a week. Looking back, it was a complete waste. I missed out on so much. And for what? What did I truly gain? Nothing worth bragging about.

What would I have done differently? Plenty. I would’ve focused on 1–3 scopes of work instead of trying to master every trade. I would’ve worked closer to home. I would’ve chased what I loved, not just the paycheck.

These days, I work my 9 hours and then shift focus to myself and my family. That still includes working at home—but now it’s about improving life for us. Work hard now, while you have the energy, so you can enjoy the fruits of it later. Because you can afford to do the work now—before you’re older, slower, and full of regrets.