Cedar and Rosewood.
No longer available.
Contact me if you have any interest in my work. THANKS.
Western Red Cedar and highly figured Maple.
.....and its lousy with nice figure. Anxious to hear Maple....it will be my first build with this material.
A short video.
My 2017 offerings are no longer available. Please contact me if you have an interest in one of my 2018 instruments.
I cannot remember a time in which a guitar of one form or another was not an object that captivated a significant portion of my attention. I've developed a real passion and respect for the classic form. Its beauty, by virtue of simplicity, is truly born from humble hands. It is my honor and privilege to be a student of this age old craft.
If you love the guitar.....especially guitars of the classic persuasion, then besides being human and riding this earth around in a big circle at this moment, we have something else in common.
I developed this web page to showcase the guitars that I make and to share my passion for the instrument. Please feel free to share any comments you may have or if you like you can send me an email. I do enjoy hearing from folks who have stopped by.
….. The components of the guitar are gathered from choice bits of dead trees and bones. These items are shaped to a preconceived dimension and adhered together into an assembly using a glue that is made from the rendered tissues of animals. Using steel objects, typically brought to a finely sharpened edge with a stone, the pieces are meticulously worked until smooth. The surfaces of the guitar are polished to a high luster using the excretion of an insect mixed with spirits distilled from fermented grain. Furthermore, the finished product can be strung and played with strings wound from the internal organ fibers of various fur bearing creatures.
When it comes to an object being “down to earth” it does not get much more organic than the guitar.
CLICK ON THE NUDE LADY
TO MY GUITARS
I am forever a simple fool.
Regardless of what I’m doing or where I might be at any given time there is a portion of my mind that is off alone somewhere, far beyond the hum of reality, focused exclusively on some element of the guitar.
I’m building it, playing it, lost in insolvable puzzles with regards to design and tonal colors. Or perhaps I’m just dreaming about trees, the smell of shellac or sharpening steel objects.
These gears of thought turn entirely to their own nonsensical rhythms. This perpetual mechanism of creation within me - it desires to never sleep.
I am forever in its grasp.