It feels like a church when I walk in. Maybe the world’s smallest. 

 

My workshop is smaller than a parking spot, but I’ve never felt limited by what I could create here. I’ve spent countless hours optimising the space and building the right tools and organisation to make the most of every centimetre. In a strange way, the workshop itself is one of my proudest projects. And it’s one that will never end. 

 

It sits in my backyard, a storage shed that I stripped down and rebuilt from the foundation. It’s fitting actually. When I went through the Amsterdam archives, I learned that my house was originally a shop selling wood and tools. So perhaps my life itself is an homage. 

 

The greatest joy for me is packing two people in this tiny space. I relish the moments teaching, learning and building with friends and colleagues. There’s nothing I find more fulfilling.

 

It’s a workshop, but it’s also a refuge. On rainy Amsterdam days, I turn on a small space heater in my shop, drink a cup of coffee, sharpen a hand plane and just watch the rain fall. Is there a more perfect moment? Unlikely.