Every new design begins with a set of constraints: a purpose, a goal, and parameters to work within. But above all, it requires inspiration. Today, I want to pull back the curtain on the genesis of my “Stone and Bridge Meditation Bench,” a piece born not in a vacuum, but from a story of collaborative artistry and a single, magnificent boulder.
The spark came from an architect friend, Eric. He told me about a custom home project where excavation unearthed several massive boulders. The homeowner saw future landscaping; Eric saw a fireplace.
The final result was stunning. I was captivated by the juxtaposition of the cold, rough-hewn stone against the smooth, warm wood floor. As a craftsperson, my mind immediately raced through the immense problem-solving each trade must have undertaken to bring that vision to life.
Eric’s first challenge was a human one: conveying his vision to both the homeowner and the craftspeople needed to execute it. Finding artisans willing to take the “hard road” is a monumental task. I’ve learned that if you want a project to be truly badass, you hire artists—those who became artists precisely through their willingness to explore.
Once Eric assembled his team, the real work began. I can’t help but appreciate the symphony of skill it required: a stone carver hollowing out the fire pit and threading a gas line through solid rock; a fireplace company engineering hidden connections and exhaust; a sheet metal artisan fabricating a custom hood; and finally, a finish carpenter scribing the floorboards to the stone in a seamless, beautiful transition. All this, while coordinating a crane to lower the colossal boulder into place before the roof was even framed.
That story became my blueprint. I was determined to bring the same spirit to a piece of furniture. My “bench” would be my “fireplace.”
My first challenge was sourcing my boulder. As a one-person shop, my “team” was the supplier. I assumed it would be simple—a trip to the landscape yard. I was wrong. The first yard cited liability concerns and refused to let me climb their piles. Second, I opted for a “ask for forgiveness later” approach, only to be politely escorted out after being caught scaling the stack.
After more internet searches and driving, I found it: the stone of my dreams. The company loaded it into my truck with a forklift, leaving me to devise my own extraction method—a task I accomplished with a carefully positioned engine hoist. It was a team effort, even if the “team” was just me and a machine.
The architect’s challenges directly informed my own. How would I incorporate a massive stone? How would I create a transition to another material? My solution was to bridge the stone with a curved, laminated wood seat, creating a visual and physical dialogue between the organic and the crafted.
My favorite part of this process is figuring out how to do new things, and I had never integrated a boulder into my work before. This project, a meditation bench built, inspired by a storyteller and executed through persistence, stands as a testament to one truth: good design never evolves in a vacuum. It’s built on the shoulders of artists, problem-solvers, and the willingness to take the hard road.
I’m the owner of Benham Design Concepts, a mixed media art studio where I design and build custom furniture and other works of art using wood, glass, stone, and various metals.
In this blog, I talk about the art I create, my journey, and the things I learn along the way.