Yep. It's all about the three-dimensional window box.
I’ve lived my adult life in Austin, Texas, but my beloved hometown is Kansas City. The house I grew up in was decidedly chaotic, but it was also interesting. My eccentric father loved to boast that instead of buying a baby carriage for three children under the age of four, he invested in a bronze sculpture—a choice that said everything about his priorities. He was, however impractical, a lifelong art enthusiast.

I went to elementary school in a middle-class district, where my Colonial Revival home felt like king of the hill. It wasn’t until middle school, in the opposite direction, that I met kids from sumptuous villas or sprawling estates. Their homes carried the stamp of designer influence—Chippendale dining sets, plush white couches, wallpaper that matched the drapes, and everything coordinated down to the powder room towels. Walking into those homes was like stepping into a magazine spread, a world away from my own unique hodgepodge.

3600 Wyncote Lane was a patchwork of hand-me-downs from my grandparents and modern purchases by my parents—an Edward Wormley (Knoll) couch, a George Nakashima dining table, Michael Thonet dining chairs, Mies van der Rohe and Alvar Aalto side chairs, and my dad’s go-to—a Charles Eames leather lounge chair. Nothing matched!

At our butcher block kitchen table sat several three-legged Nakashima chairs my dad had cut down from bar stools. One day my grand dame of a grandmother took a seat and went tumbling backwards. Truth was, those chairs toppled more often than they stood steady. I can still hear the clatter they made!

I was no mid-century modernist. My natural inclination for my own first home was to select bespoke paint colors that matched the Laura Ashley prints on my couch and club chairs. It was sweet, but as I matured, my tastes shifted. 

I’m more of a minimalist now—a nod to my origins I suppose—and yes, I’ve purchased my share of modernist pieces, including an elegant Aalto lounge chair upholstered in a burnt copper Donghia fabric (now worn thin) and a modular Christopher Deam credenza paneled in a mix of wood and steel (still pristine). My son has the chair and will eventually inherit the cabinet.

The art at Wyncote Lane seemed eclectic to the point of dissonance. There was the Germaine Richier Hydra sculpture, a Man Ray self-portrait, a Jean DuBuffet wax crayon on paper, a Kurt Schwitters collage of oil, shells, and cardboard, a hideous James Ensor Study for Masks and Parade (that scared me to death!) and, of course, the beloved Bentons—Thomas Hart Benton to be clear, a celebrated regional artist whose home in Valentine I visited dozens of times with my father.

The collection also included fine photography by Diane Arbus, Walker Evans, Ansel Adams, and Edward Curtis—later sold to Hallmark when my parents divorced—alongside an abundance of Native American art and religious icons gathered over countless trips to Santa Fe, New Mexico, an artist mecca at the time.

And then there was this perfect little lucite art box that I adored (still do—that hasn’t changed!): three panels, layered inside a frame, creating a three-dimensional image that utterly captivated me. Back then, it was just negatives pressed between panes, a simple clothesline, of all things, with different garments strung across each frame. 

Of all the eccentric objects in my unruly childhood home, that little art box is what grabbed me. It’s what inspired hey acrylic! eight years ago when I first realized the potential of acrylic. And today? We can print right on the acrylic. Instant art, instant joy. It’s my passion project, the piece that made me believe acrylic could be more than décor—it could be art you live with.

But it’s not instant, of course. In fact, it’s not easy to fabricate. I have yet to find a manufacturer for this product—and here’s why; these three-dimensional boxes demand innovation and precision: visionary artists willing to take a chance on an untested product, talented graphic designers able to splice static images into layers, a competent pre-press team to refine the files, high-quality printing, laser cutting, and finally, hand assembly in sequential order.

That window box remains my dream product—the one I am still figuring out how to bring to life. I’ve now got factory-ready specs to share with the right fabricator. Even better, I’m working with the amazing @karinbos, whose art is picture perfect in these little gems. Stay tuned—we’ll be shining a spotlight on her very soon.

As for the boxes themselves—well, the journey continues. I’m determined to bring them to market, because honestly? There’s a need for limited-edition, artist-inspired acrylic décor for design lovers and collectors seeking distinctive, functional art for their homes. I’ve been watching this space for years and haven’t seen anything like them. They’re the kind of art I want in my own home—and I know I’m not the only one.

I’m exploring manufacturers, including one in Asia, but producing overseas comes with its own hurdles: freight, tariffs, customs, warehousing, potential quality issues, all of it. And that also means moving away from the on-demand model that has kept wonderkin lean, into the world of upfront investment and inventory.

So, for now my focus is on building the foundation—growing steadily with my core products—shadowboxes, trays and coasters—creating income I can count on. It’s daunting, but exciting too—and I’ll keep you posted every step of the way. 

And hey, if you happen to know a great stateside manufacturer who can handle acrylic, let’s talk—because building hey acrylic! is a team effort.

From a spark of acrylic to a world of wonder.
Pivoting from a successful run in tech, I jumped into what I thought would be a fun detour about fifteen years ago—landing in a small art reproduction company with big ambitions. Artist recruiting, giclée printing, laser cutting, lucite framing—my job was like being handed the keys to the kingdom for a wannabe art maven, aspiring designer, and perpetual tinkerer. Creative, inventive, and just the right amount of obsessive.

Fast forward through a few twists (an investment backer who fired the leadership team, a tough start-up stint with no income, a long stretch back in corporate life), and I couldn’t shake the itch. During those years in the art industry, I’d fallen hard—for acrylic.

Why acrylic? Because it’s magic. Clear and modern, but also bold and playful. I loved the one–inch flame-polished frames, the layered shadow boxes with linen backers, the luminous neon mirror boxes. At the time I conceived of this business, I was most inspired by a piece from my childhood: a vintage acrylic window box from the 1970s: three panels, layered inside a frame, creating a three-dimensional image that felt alive. Back then, it was negatives sandwiched between panes. Today? We can print right on the acrylic. 

That was the spark. I wanted people like me—people without giant art budgets—to collect unique, meaningful objects for their homes. Art you don’t just hang, but live with. 

I launched the brand as wonderkin, a nod to my former start up. After eight years of dormancy—because I was baffled by how to market my fledgling business, was competing in a saturated framed-art market, and was busy working full time in the corporate world—I’m finally reinvesting. This time feels different: shadow boxes and acrylic décor offer a fresh, unique value proposition. I’ve learned a lot, grown in countless ways, and I’m ready to move forward with renewed clarity and focus.

Admittedly, I’m chasing a dream—not only with my time, but with my funds. I’m investing in website optimization, social media campaigns, product development, brand photography, email marketing, and even packaging and fulfillment. Each decision feels like a step toward building not just products, but a business that lasts. And it’s exciting but also a little scary.

But here’s the truth: heyacrylic! isn’t just about acrylic. For me, it’s about that same magic I felt as a kid peering into that window box—the sense that art isn’t distant or untouchable, but something you can hold. That’s the feeling I want to share.

Because this isn’t just my story—it’s yours, too. hey acrylic! is about giving you access to art that feels alive, objects that light up a wall, a table, a whole room, that inspire conversation, memories, and joy every time you walk past. It’s proof that even the smallest idea can become something you hold in your hands: sleek acrylic—etched, printed, layered—transformed into a collectible that invites play, pride, and connection.

And this is only the beginning. From new shadow box collections to playful neon and unexpected design ideas, I’m pursuing a passion—and inviting you to come along.

Fast forward through a few twists (an investment backer who fired the leadership team, a tough start-up stint with no income, a long stretch back in corporate life), and I couldn’t shake the itch. During those years in the art industry, I’d fallen hard—for acrylic.

Why acrylic? Because it’s magic. Clear and modern, but also bold and playful. I loved the one–inch flame-polished frames, the layered shadow boxes with linen backers, the luminous neon mirror boxes.

But at the time I conceived of this business, I was most inspired by a piece from my childhood: a vintage acrylic window box from the 1970s: three panels, layered inside a frame, creating a three-dimensional image that felt alive. Back then, it was negatives sandwiched between panes. Today? We can print right on the acrylic. 

That was the spark. I wanted people like me—people without giant art budgets—to collect unique, meaningful objects for their homes. Art you don’t just hang, but live with. 

I launched as wonderkin, the brand a nod to my former start up. After eight years of dormancy—because I was baffled by how to market my fledgling business, was competing in a saturated framed-art market, and was busy working full time in the corporate world—I’m finally reinvesting. This time feels different: shadow boxes and acrylic décor offer a fresh, unique value proposition. I’ve learned a lot, grown in countless ways, and I’m ready to move forward with renewed clarity and focus.

Admittedly, I’m chasing a dream—not only with my time, but with my funds. I’m investing in website optimization, social media campaigns, product development, brand photography, email marketing, and even packaging and fulfillment. Each decision feels like a step toward building not just products, but a business that lasts. And it’s exciting but also a little scary.

But here’s the truth: heyacrylic! isn’t just about acrylic. For me, it’s about that same magic I felt as a kid peering into that window box—the sense that art isn’t distant or untouchable, but something you can hold. That’s the feeling I want to share.

Because this isn’t just my story—it’s yours, too. wonderkin is about giving you access to art that feels alive, objects that light up a wall, a table, a whole room, that inspire conversation, memories, and joy every time you walk past. It’s proof that even the smallest idea can become something you hold in your hands: sleek acrylic—etched, printed, layered—transformed into a collectible that invites play, pride, and connection.

And this is only the beginning. From new shadow box collections to playful neon and unexpected design ideas, I’m pursuing a passion—and inviting you to come along.