The dead spark plug my dad gave me was a one-manned rocketship. My blaster was made from a camera tripod, my lightsaber from a broomstick and BMX grips. My ever-evolving robot was built and rebuilt from Legos. Wind rushing past my ears while riding my banana seat bike was the sound of rocket boosters.
I stay up late and ride bicycles. I climb trees and explore the neighborhood and nearby woods on foot. I like making nice things that are very hard to break. I like old and heavy steel, copper, and bronze.
I see all my Astrobots belonging to the same big robot family, with siblings and cousins — even with a rare set of twins, if I happen to complete two the same day. I enjoy seeing things out of context and upside-down, to reinvent a collection of objects to evoke an emotion through body language. There is an intrinsic beauty in the design, the longevity, the weight, and the wear of these chunky steel mechanical elements that are integrated into our daily lives, it is gratifying to create new objects that perhaps exist much longer than if they were left unchanged. I like to fantasize one my Astrobots appearing on ‘Antiques Roadshow’ in the distant future, and having some expert in early twenty-first century works of steel seriously freak out.