Boards

I learned this trade on boards. Small enough that a bad pour didn't bankrupt the week. Large enough that you still have to flatten, seal, mix, wait, and sand like you mean it.

People treat boards as the minor league. Fair. But the chemistry doesn't care about size. Epoxy still bubbles out of end grain. Mica still settles wrong if you rush. Finish still shows every grit you skipped. A twelve-inch board will teach you that faster than a six-foot table, and the tuition is cheaper.

What I make

Charcuterie boards, serving boards, pieces that sit on a counter and get used. Walnut shows up a lot. So does epoxy: black, tinted, sometimes two rivers where the grain already split.

I don't force a single glamorous "river" down the middle because a thumbnail on Instagram said that's the formula. Look at the wood. Sometimes it wants two channels. Sometimes it wants a quiet fill in a crack and nothing flashy. One of my favorites has two natural breaks along the grain. I poured both. Some people would call those breaks defects. I called them the design.

Why start here if you want a table later

Boards are how I figure out what you like without burning a month and a slab. Color, wood, edge style: try it small. If the black epoxy with walnut is the one you keep touching in the photos, we already know something useful before anyone talks dining height.

They're also honest gifts. People use them. They go in the dishwasher debate (I can tell you what the finish allows). They don't need a freight company.

Custom

Tell me size, wood preference if you have one, and how loud you want the epoxy. I'll tell you what the slab in the shop will actually support. I won't promise a fantasy grain pattern I don't have on the rack.