My name is Dave Kellum.

I picked up a guitar when I was 16 with dreams of joining Roxx Gang, more groupie affection than I could handle, and free-flowing fountains of Zima backstage.

It didn't go so well.

My guitar skills peaked after my first three weeks of half-assed practice. Now that I'm old, even those lame skills have vaporized.

That dashed dream didn't end my relationship with guitars, however. It pushed me in from a different angle.

Now I shred with rasps, files, saws, sandpaper and my imagination.

Does creating beautiful instruments bring me satisfaction? Yeah, it does. A lot of it. Would I rather play like Mark Knopfler? Most certainly— but a man's got to know his limitations.

Leo Fender and me: cuckold craftsmen who can't play a lick. Forced to watch greasy, long-haired freaks run their sweaty fingers up and down the necks of our creations; wooing babes and recording rock 'n roll albums while we're left wiping up sawdust from our work benches.

Life isn't fair. My mom warned me about that when I was a boy.

Thank you for swinging by. I hope that you enjoy my work. I do.

Most sincerely,

Dave