How everything started...

Growing up, my grandmother's hands were never still. She taught me how to shape walnut, how to pour resin, how to place every stone and feather with intention — not just to make something beautiful, but to keep something alive. Our heritage. Our stories. Our connection to the land and the people who came before us.

When she passed, I lost more than my grandmother. I lost the person who held all of it together. For months, I didn't touch the workshop. I didn't know if the craft was mine to carry, or if it had left with her.

I found my answer in late winter, standing at her workbench with a slab of black walnut and a jar of turquoise stones she'd collected. I started building. Not because I had a plan, but because my hands remembered what she taught them. And something clicked. Not just the wood. Something inside me.

Every board I make starts from raw walnut and ends as something a family will display in their home, pass down, or give to someone they love. I hand-place every skull, every feather, every turquoise stone into the resin myself. I don't outsource. I don't mass produce. There's no factory, no shortcuts, no algorithm deciding what gets made. Just me, my tools, and every ounce of love and pride my grandmother passed down to me.

Every order that comes in is a reminder that what she taught me matters. Every board that ships out carries a piece of her story — and ours — with it.

When you support this shop, you're not just buying a piece of wood and resin. You're helping keep a Native American tradition alive. You're telling a granddaughter that her grandmother's craft was worth preserving. And that means everything to me.