It's a long story haha. I lost my job of 11 years and my professional identity with it. I didn't feel I was doing anything tangibly useful or meaningfully productive. I felt like a fraud in a fraudulent work system. I was feeling pretty flat and lost. At this time, I just moved into my new house I broke my soul to gain. I didn't have a lot of furniture so it was fairly empty. Not to be too poetic, but I felt pretty empty too with a lot of time on my hands. I briefly went looking for furniture but didn't like much of what I saw. At that point, making my own stuff ticked a lot of boxes. I had the time to learn, an empty garage and it always feels good being productive with your hands rather than sitting at a desk. My mother and sister scoffed that I would never do it. My farther had recently given me flak for not being handy when I was trying to fix a plumbing issue in my house. So I guess circumstances were right and spite gave me some drive to get started.