About

Andy makes things that leave a mark. Hand-built objects, photographs pulled from light and patience, patterns drawn in sand and cut from wood — the medium changes, but the instinct underneath it doesn't. He works across disciplines the way some people speak several languages: not as a party trick, but because no single one says everything he needs to say.

That multiplicity is the point, not a footnote. Under Andy.Build, he handcrafts 9:9 domino sets paired with The Book of Bones, a mystical rulebook and oracle system that turns fifty-five tiles into something between a game and a divination. Each set is an object built to be handled — weighted, sanded, and finished by hand — and the accompanying system gives those tiles a second life as instruments of reflection. It's craft and storytelling fused into a single made thing, which is about the most honest description of his work there is.

His workshop runs on the same restless curiosity. A hexagonal LED table, a kinetic sand table drawing patterns in real time, a laser cutter and CNC humming alongside a wide-format printer — tools he uses less as machines than as collaborators. He shoots film, favoring hand-built pinhole cameras and the analog discipline of waiting to see what you actually caught. He builds and plays ukuleles, and sings in choirs, because a maker's hands don't stop at wood and light. But the center of gravity is visual and physical: things you can hold, hang, or hand to someone.

Everything Andy makes carries a set of values he doesn't leave at the door. He is a fierce advocate for LGBTQ+ people, for mental health honesty, for workers, and for holding power to account — commitments that run through his art as steadily as they run through his life. His creative identity was shaped early by a family where difference was lived openly and courage was ordinary, and by a mother whose guiding line he still builds by: you leave a piece of yourself with every person you meet. His art is, in the end, an attempt to leave good pieces.

He lives and works in Belleville, Michigan, with his husband Kurt — an impressionist painter whose canvases have found their way into Andy's projects — and two exceptionally opinionated orange cats. Whether he's sanding a domino tile smooth, shaping the neck of a ukulele, or metering light for a shot that might not develop, he's doing the same thing every time: making something true, and leaving a piece of himself in it.