Create it Witty emerges from a simple truth: to make, one does not always need a strong story or predetermined intent. Often it's the pure joy of making that guides the creation, not the story or purpose. The project exists from the need to make, to live, to enjoy the very act of bringing artifacts into being.

These artifacts do not solve problems, save the world, or anything that grand. All they do is make everyday a little more colorful—or black and white, if you like it that way. They exist to add small moments of visual interest, tactile pleasure, or quiet contemplation to the ordinary rhythm of daily life.

My making is like poetry—each artifact is layered and open to interpretation, crafted so that you, the owner, can find your own ways to connect with it. There is no single meaning imposed, no rigid function dictated. Instead, each piece invites personal discovery in whatever hue or shade speaks to you.

The name "Create it Witty" reflects this playful approach to making. Wit here means not just cleverness, but the spark of understanding that emerges when hands, materials, and curiosity meet. Each artifact carries this wit—a kind of gentle intelligence that reveals itself through use and contemplation, adding its own particular color to your world.

I am a maker driven by the intersection of functionality and contemplation. My background spans engineering, design, and meditation practice, bringing together technical precision with mindful creation.

Each artifact begins as a personal question: "How might this object help me understand something better?" or "What would it feel like to interact with this daily?" These questions guide every decision, from material selection to the final surface texture.

I work from a small workshop where time moves differently. Here, the rush to produce is replaced by the patience to perfect, and every tool has been chosen for its ability to translate intention into reality.

Each artifact is created in deliberately small batches, typically between 15 and 40 pieces. This limitation isn't artificial scarcity—it's a commitment to maintaining the intimate relationship between maker and object.

When I complete a series, I move on. There are no reprints or "by popular demand" extensions. This approach ensures that each piece receives the full attention it deserves and prevents the dilution that comes with scaling.

Every artifact is numbered and carries a unique character that emerges during its creation. No two pieces are identical, even within the same series.

These artifacts have no grand purpose beyond adding a touch of something different to your day. They might catch light in an interesting way, feel good in your hands, or simply sit quietly on a shelf looking exactly like what they are—small, honest objects made with care.

Some might help you think, others might make you smile, and many will simply exist as pleasant companions to your daily routines. They are not solutions or optimizations, just gentle additions to the visual and tactile landscape of everyday life.

In acquiring an artifact, you're not saving the world or solving anything important—you're simply choosing to live with something that was made by hand, with attention, and with the hope that it might add its own particular shade of color (or comfortable black and white) to your ordinary, beautiful days.