One guy, a garage,
and a pile of other people’s wood.

It started by accident

Before that I was making furniture and odds and ends for people around town. I wasn’t looking for a business. One sign turned into a few, a few turned into a lot, and eventually it needed a name.

Since then they’ve gone out to 25 states and Canada — Massachusetts, Arizona, Iowa, Oklahoma, places nowhere near an ocean. That still surprises me.

Why reclaimed wood

Mostly because of how it looks. New lumber looks new, and no amount of sanding fakes what a few years outdoors does to a board. The grey in the grain, the nail holes, the splits — that’s real, and it’s the reason these sit right next to a pool instead of looking like a craft store purchase.

That it keeps decent wood out of a dumpster is a bonus I’m happy about, but it isn’t the reason.

It’s also more work, not less. I hunt down pallets around town, break them apart by hand and pull every nail, and reject most of what I collect. Here’s the whole process.

What I make

Hand-painted directional signs, six arrows on a five-foot post, for the places people love:

• Aruba — the one that started it, and still most of what I make
• Long Beach Island — four mainstays plus a fifth town you pick
• Cape Cod
• Anywhere else — your street, your lake house, your bar, your resort

There are also canvas prints and a bit of merch, but the signs are the business.

Talking to me

Most orders start as a conversation, and honestly that’s the part I’m best at. If you’re unsure which places to put on your sign, or whether a long name will fit, or what colors work together — just ask. You won’t get an automated reply.