CABIN FEVER
I grew up just south of Pittsburgh, in a log cabin my mom and dad built by hand just outside a small steel town. That kind of place shapes your eye before you even know what you’re looking at: practical materials, worn surfaces, hometown grit, handmade things, and objects that carry meaning because of where they came from. Looking back, the pieces were always there, youth baseball, Bronson House field, hometown sports, old uniforms, pennants on the walls, posters of athletes and icons, weekends spent going from auctions to yard sales, looking for the pieces that told a story.
Our cabin was filled with that same kind of history, two-man saws, buckskins, frontier paintings, and found objects that helped extend the story of the house while paying homage to the pioneers. Nearly everything had been sourced, collected, or kept because it added to the feeling of the cabin and the life around it. That background still informs how I work and collect today. I’m drawn to objects with history, wear, pride, utility, and a clear sense of place. The imperfect details are usually the ones that matter most.
Prowess & Victory is built from that point of view: part archive, part storytelling, and part lifelong study of the things people keep because they meant something.
A DECADE APART
For the first ten years of my life, I was an only child. In my third grade yearbook, the thing I wanted most was a brother or sister. Eventually, I got one.
We grew up a decade apart, but the thing that connects us most is the way we were raised. The cabin, the place, the people, the culture, the family around us. No one else on earth shares that exact same story.
My sister has always understood where this comes from BECAUSE OF WHERE WE CAME FROM. She helped push me to build Prowess & Victory and believed, fully, that I could make it happen.
