Biography
I was born 38 years ago in Upstate New York, where I lived out in the sticks on and around the dairy farms where my father chose to center his life. I treasure many memories of a childhood spent in these beautiful yet challenging settings: roaming around in the haylofts of old barns was a treat; getting up to milk cows in the morning was not.
When I left home, I had the good luck to stumble into the welcoming arms of Vassar College, a well-known stronghold of smart, progressive people in the Hudson River Valley. I often felt like the dumbest guy there- the density of talent and ability was intimidating, to say the least- but I had a heck of a good time and began to figure out a lot more about who I did and didn't want to be when I grew up. A year-long exchange program in Lausanne, Switzerland provided the quintessential opportunity of a lifetime, and I look back very fondly on those days. It feels like a long time ago.
After college, I had a number of different jobs, as many of us do. I had entertained visions of being a schoolteacher for a while, and had attainted certification from the New York State Board of Education to do so- this qualified me (on paper, at least) to spend the next couple of years teaching preschool. I loved it, and I think I was good at it, but I gradually sensed that it wasn't going to be my life's work, and I identified a strong desire for a more creative career. I worked for a time as the low-man-on-the-totem-pole for a local homebuilder, which mostly meant that I carried heavy things around so that more experienced people didn't have to, and while this didn't thrill me (ever spend a day carrying 100 pound bundles of shingles onto a 3-story roof in 105 degree weather? I sincerely hope you never do), I recognized it as a step in the right direction. Not long afterward, I began to dabble in woodworking, and much to my surprise, I woke up one day with the realization that I needed to do it full-time, despite the fact that this was theoretically a horrible idea. I was broke, inexperienced, and generally clueless, but at least I was young and energetic.
With $200 to my name, I traded my mountain bike for a tablesaw, located shop space, and proceeded to make every mistake in the book. I'm pretty sure that I even invented a few new ones that nobody else had ever made before. The first couple of years were pure trial and error. Seventy-hour weeks where I might've cleared $100. But throughout it all, I kept going, and the tide eventually began to turn. Once I had paid enough dues in the shop, I was able to start making things that I could be proud of. I have learned a great deal in the fourteen years since.
Although I never wanted to leave Ithaca, New York, I ended up moving around the country in support of my wife's academic career. As is often the case, these unplanned and frankly unwanted life changes worked out far better than I could have imagined. A 4-year stint in Madison, Wisconsin was lovely, and then an unexpected relocation to Salt Lake City, Utah turned out to be one of the best moves I've ever made. We're here to stay- it has been over eight years now- and we love it. I have a wonderful wife and a beautiful three-year old daughter, and I get to spend my working hours imagining and building. In my free time, I ski, mountain bike, and play fiddle and banjo with the Bueno Avenue Stringband.
Life is good. Very, very good.
Christopher Gleason
December 2011