The Value of Time

I’ve been working on Cast & Character for quite some time now. Longer than I originally anticipated. And while the project has moved slowly, I’ve come to realize that I’m perfectly happy with that. I’m in no rush.

In fact, the more time I spend developing this project, the more I recognize that its value has very little to do with how quickly I can bring something to market. Cast & Character has become a way for me to stay connected to the part of being an artist that I enjoy most: simply making things.

Not necessarily making something for an exhibition, a gallery, or a particular audience. Just making, experimenting, failing, figuring things out, and trying again.

That’s where this whole thing started.

The Catalyst

During COVID, I began developing a body of work that I eventually called my Catalyst series. The idea grew out of an exercise I remembered from my background in design.

We were challenged to take a logo or visual identity and recreate it as many different ways as possible. Not just a few variations, but enough that you eventually exhausted the obvious solutions and had to start thinking differently.

I loved that exercise.

There’s something fascinating about what happens when you force yourself to continue creating beyond the point where you think you’ve run out of ideas. You begin questioning decisions you wouldn’t normally question. You take chances. You make mistakes. You stumble into unexpected solutions. The process becomes less about arriving at the perfect design and more about discovering what else might be possible.

Make. Fail. Redo. Succeed. Repeat.

That became the foundation of Catalyst. What started as a two-dimensional exercise eventually found its way into my sculptural practice. And when I began thinking about how this approach could translate into three dimensions, the possibilities became significantly more interesting. Suddenly, I wasn’t just manipulating shapes, compositions, or visual relationships. I was introducing materials, surfaces, casting methods, fabrication techniques, and physical limitations. A form could change entirely depending on whether it was made from glass, ceramic, metal, or something else. A process could introduce unexpected results that would influence the next iteration. The horizon line kept moving farther away and that’s what continues to excite me about making things. Every answer seems to create another question.

From Process to Object

Cast & Character grew directly out of that way of thinking.

I started wondering what would happen if I took these explorations and developed them into something tangible. Something that could exist outside my studio and become part of someone’s everyday life. Not necessarily a large sculpture or an object that needed to be displayed in a gallery. Just something interesting. Something you could pick up, turn around in your hands, observe, and live with. I’ve always liked the idea that someone could own a physical fragment of my creative process. Almost like purchasing a small piece of my mind, as strange as that sounds.

Each object represents a much larger collection of decisions, experiments, failures, and discoveries. What eventually becomes a finished piece is only one moment in an ongoing process. And I think there’s something meaningful about that. I also appreciate the opportunity to make work that doesn’t need to fit into the expectations of a gallery or exhibition.

I value that part of my career, but I don’t always want to make something because I think it belongs in a particular show or because it fits an established narrative surrounding my work. Sometimes I want to explore an idea simply because I’m curious about it. Cast & Character gives me that freedom. It allows me to experiment without feeling obligated to turn every idea into a significant statement. The objects can be playful, unusual, functional, or completely unexpected. They can exist simply because I wanted to see what would happen if I made them.

Figuring Out the Making

Of course, turning an idea into a physical object that can be produced consistently introduces an entirely different set of challenges.

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time working through materials, manufacturing methods, mold systems, and the countless little details involved in translating a design into something repeatable. There have been plenty of failed attempts and changes in direction. But that’s also what makes this interesting to me. I enjoy problem-solving. I enjoy learning unfamiliar processes. And I genuinely enjoy the technical side of figuring out how something can be made. One of the more important lessons I’ve learned throughout this project, however, is recognizing where I should invest my own energy and where it makes sense to ask for help.

I’ve always been someone who wants to figure everything out myself. But there’s a difference between learning a process because it interests you and spending months trying to solve a problem that someone else has already mastered. Recently, Cast & Character took a significant step forward. I’ve made an investment in working with Mudshark Studios to help manufacture the plaster mold systems I’ll use to produce the Character Cubes.

These molds will allow me to slip cast the objects in porcelain, creating a repeatable foundation for production while keeping the actual making process in my hands. That distinction is important to me. I’m not looking to remove myself from the production of these objects. Quite the opposite. I’m investing in the tools that will allow me to spend more time doing the part I enjoy. Making. It wasn’t a small financial commitment, but I’ve come to believe that sometimes you have to invest in the things you genuinely care about, even when you don’t know exactly where they’ll lead.

A big thank-you to Mudshark Studios for helping me bring this next stage of the project to life.

No Finish Line

I think there’s an expectation that when someone starts developing a product, the immediate goal should be to grow it into something bigger. Launch it. Sell it. Scale it. Expand it.

And while I understand that approach, it’s never really been my motivation with Cast & Character. I’m not trying to build a multimillion-dollar company. I’m trying to create a sustainable space in my life where I can continue experimenting with ideas, exploring materials, and producing objects that I find interesting. I already have a career I care deeply about. I have students to teach, a sculptural practice to maintain, and a life outside the studio that deserves my time and attention.

Cast & Character doesn’t need to compete with those things. But, it can grow alongside them, at whatever pace makes sense.

If the objects find their way into people’s homes, that’s incredibly rewarding. If the project grows into something larger over time, I’m open to seeing where it goes. But I don’t want the pressure of turning something into a business to overshadow the curiosity that made me start it in the first place. That’s the part I want to protect. For me, Cast & Character is an extension of an ongoing conversation with materials, processes, and ideas. It’s a way to keep exploring without needing to know exactly what the finished result will be.

And now, with the mold systems moving into production, I’m excited to see this next chapter take shape. There will be more experiments, more mistakes, more adjustments, and hopefully a growing collection of objects that people can enjoy in their own spaces. I’m looking forward to sharing that process as it unfolds. But I’m not watching the clock.

Make. Fail. Redo. Succeed. Repeat.