The Story
Alexander
Designed by a man who wanted one.
I was born and raised in Florida, and I live in Saint Petersburg on Tampa Bay, among the mangroves, the heat and the fish. I spearfish, surf and paddleboard. I like vintage, purposeful design, and the older something is, the more I tend to trust it. I drive an old Jeep and I intend to keep driving it.
The mustache is part of that. It is a deliberate choice, which is exactly why men with mustaches recognize each other. A nod in passing, a mutual understanding. You know what it takes to grow one and what it takes to keep it.
I could not find a brush I was proud to reach for, so I designed the one I wanted. I do not like replacing things, and I did not design this to be replaced. Made to Remain.
27.7730° N, 82.6400° W
Old Florida
Salt, brass, and weathered wood.
The Florida I mean is the older one. Salt air, brass, weathered wood, a boat that has been fished hard and kept up. Ernest Hemingway lived, fished and wrote here, and what he understood was plainness. A man who knows his craft, practices it every day, says little about it and lets the work stand.
There is a darker side to it as well. The afternoon storm rolling across the bay, the rain sitting in the mangroves, the food chain doing what it does. It is beautiful, and it does not care whether you are watching. That is the part of Florida that feels honest.
Museums
History, kept honestly.
A museum teaches you how to look at an ordinary thing. A compass, a worn tool, a pigment ground from the earth, set behind glass with a small plaque, becomes worth studying because time has worked on it. I wanted to make something that earns that standing. Brass left bare to darken where you hold it. Cast acrylic that does not warp or cloud. Boar bristle, which barbers settled on more than a century ago and never had a reason to leave.
Around my home are photographs of things I have done. A personal best taken with a pole spear in the bay. A fourth place finish in my age group in a 5K. Some of it is significant and some of it is not, and that is not the point. I believe in evidence of a life lived.