About the Artist
This isn't a business. It's how I learned to feel again.
On May 3rd, 2022, I held my father—my best friend—as he took his final breath. Two months later, my son chose to leave this world.
Something inside me collapsed.
Ambition. Joy. Purpose.
Gone.
I wasn't living. I was floating—silent, numb, waiting for the clock to stop.
The Watch That Pulled Me Back
Until I found a watch. Or more precisely—a 1944 Rolex dial, the year my father was born.
It was nothing. Just a face. Cracked. Forgotten. But when I saw it, it felt like a memory. It felt like me.
That moment pulled me under. And somehow, it also pulled me back.
I began building—not watches, but a way forward. I shaped metal. I burned steel. I listened to the past and asked it to speak. And it did.
Why I Build
Now, I build with intention and passion. Each case is shaped by hand—burned, soaked, aged, and repaired. Each dial is chosen not for perfection, but for its scars. Each Revival is selected for its story, not its pedigree.
Because beauty doesn't come from flawlessness or prestige. It comes from surviving—from carrying the cracks… and still keeping time.
The watches I make are not for show. They're not for shelves or display boxes. They're for wrists that have been through something.
I have a few watches I designed myself and created for a purpose—a tribute to my family, but meant for yours.
Heartworks: Timepieces That Help People Stay
Some of my most personal builds belong to a line I call Heartworks—watches made to sit with you through pain, loss, or doubt.
“I Love You, Goodbye”
Those were the last words I spoke to my father as he took his final breath. He never accepted that the cancer would win.
So I built a tribute in his honor— for the ones we had to let go, and the millions of us who had to say those same words… or never got the chance.
This is a watch for people who who struggle to look at pictures. Because sometimes, pictures feel like daggers— a frozen moment of someone you love, staring back at you, reminding you they're gone.
But these words… They're softer. They carry the love, the laughter, the quiet moments you forgot you still remembered.
This dial doesn't reopen the wound. It lets you hold the memory—without the sharp pain.
I didn't build it to erase the loss. I built it to keep it close. To help someone else carry theirs.
“Stay”
Built for the one who's hurting—whether it's you, or someone you love.
The dial doesn't shout. The case doesn't shine. But it's there. Steady. Constant. Near the 6 o'clock mark, barely visible: a single word—Stay.
It's quiet, but vital. For the days when hope slips through your hands. For the nights that feel endless. For the weight no one else sees. For the fake smiles we wear.
Sometimes, all it takes is a whisper—a single word, as simple as Stay.
Both HeartWorks watches carry a message etched into the case back—along with the number 988, the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.
Because even if you're not ready to talk, you can wear something that reminds you: you're not alone. And sometimes, all it takes is one conversation to save a life.
Inspired by my son, who chose to leave. 10/09/1999 / 07/19/2021 And our best friend Kelly. 06/10/2002 / 05/07/2025
What I Really Built
So no, I didn't build a brand. I built a memory. Worn on the wrist. A legacy you can feel ticking.
Thank you for reading my story. If you're carrying pain—mine knows yours. And if one of my watches finds its way to you... I hope it reminds you to stay.
You can message me anytime.