I’ve always loved working with materials. Amidst the chaos of life, one can find peace in it.

I’ve always had questions. Some of the answers I eventually found through woodworking.

I went through many phases—an expected academic future abandoned in favor of years as a yeshiva student, playing music on the streets of Jerusalem, and living in Greece as a musician and teacher of traditional music.

I started woodworking because a friend said, “Listen, you’d be great as a woodworker.” I tried it, and he was right. I took a course through the Ministry of Labor in Jerusalem, and since then woodworking became a hobby for me, but not something serious. I remember once, during the course, we saw pictures of Japanese woodworking, and I said that one day I had to travel there… I didn’t know then what exactly drew me to it, or where it would lead me.

By the time I turned thirty, I knew I needed to make a serious decision about what I wanted to specialize in. This led to two years where I studied and eventually became a “Resident Craftsman” at the Inside Passage School in Canada, under the guidance of my mentor (and friend) Robert Van Norman. Robert was a student of the famous woodworker James Krenov—a unique, brave, and independent figure in the world of woodworking, who also studied in Sweden and developed his own distinctive style. In the 1970s, he returned to teach in the United States and published several books that gave many people hope that it’s still possible to create genuinely, from the heart, at the highest level.

Robert sold his home in Canada and moved with his wife for a year to the U.S. to study with Krenov. When Robert founded his school in Canada, James agreed to give weekly lectures over the phone to the students. We now listen to these talks in recordings—Krenov passed away in 2009, leaving behind a legacy.

It was during my first semester there, standing in the kitchen of the apartment I rented, preparing dinner, when suddenly my eyes filled with tears, and I knew I had found my place in the world, my grounding. I still remember the smell of that house… Fortunately, it’s possible to carry that grounding back home with me. Traditional woodworking became my life’s passion.

Today, I work with wood. I make heirloom furniture on commission, teach a comprehensive woodworking course for those who want to learn the craft, and hold woodworking workshops for couples.

I’ve learned that furniture can be poetry. I delve into the fine details in both my work and teaching because life is made of these details, and it’s worth living this life to the fullest. When someone opens a drawer in a cabinet I’ve built, smells the fine wood, removes it and sees that even the back was crafted with love—that it’s pleasing to the eye and the touch, made with no compromises—they’ll know I was there, and that I cared. I really cared. In this way, perhaps, I leave something behind.

After my years in Canada, Robert asked me to write a testimonial for the school. You can read it here.

Our working style seeks to be attuned to the inner rhythms—not just because it’s romantic and spiritual (though it truly is), but out of the understanding that this is how truly good things are built. On a technical level, this means combining classic woodworking machines with traditional hand tools, all at a high standard and with the experience of finding the perfect balance between speed and slowness.

It’s not always easy—sometimes you get a reflection of exactly where you are: impatient, unfocused, even foolish. And that’s usually where mistakes happen. On the other hand, there’s the magic, those moments when everything works in harmony—yourself, the tools, and the wood under your hands, and entire days pass without notice. That’s the place that excites me, that makes my hairs stand on end sometimes when I teach or work, that makes me kiss the tool after I’m done using it, that gives me a sense of meaning that’s at the heart of it all for me.

To be able to build something, sit in front of it, and feel proud. Not because I’m good, but because I genuinely tried.

That’s what I want to keep doing for the rest of my life—to make a living from it and help others discover their own path in this. That’s why this studio exists.