Written by: Kevin D'Arcy
Before there were tools, benches, or finished pieces, there was an empty patch of grass behind our house.
This project did not start as a workshop. It started as a decision. Toward the end of 2024, I began taking seriously the idea of what the next chapter might look like. That eventually led to selling my marketing company in 2025 and committing to building something entirely different. Redbird officially begins in March 2026, but the real work started here.
I did not have an existing garage to convert, and renting space never felt right. I wanted something that was mine, built intentionally, and close to my family. A place designed around the kind of work I want to do, not adapted to it.
This slab is the first permanent expression of that choice.
Preparing the ground
The space was simple to start with. Grass, a fence line, and just enough room to imagine something more.
The pad is 16 by 24 feet. It fits the space I had without feeling constrained, and it leaves room to grow into the kind of projects and tools I have planned. There was no interest in cutting corners here. This was about building what was needed, properly, the first time.
Building the form
The formwork is unglamorous, but it matters. It sets the boundaries. It defines what everything else will rest on.
This was very much a shared effort. My brother in law Brad works with Dufferin Concrete, and his experience was invaluable. We built the forms together, coordinated excavation, and planned the pour carefully. Having the right people involved made all the difference.
There is something reassuring about this stage. Once the forms are in place and the reinforcement is laid out, the project stops being theoretical. It becomes inevitable.
Pour day
Pour day was organized chaos in the best possible way.
Concrete waits for no one. Once it starts, decisions have to be made quickly and adjustments happen in real time. We had a good group of people on site who knew what they were doing, and the energy stayed focused and calm even as everything moved fast.
I handled some of the finishing alongside the crew. Watching the surface come together was deeply satisfying. This was the moment the foundation became real.
A foundation, literally and otherwise
Pouring a permanent slab carries weight beyond the material itself.
For me, this represented a fresh beginning. A clear line between what came before and what comes next. A foundation not just for a building, but for a new way of working. Deliberate. Thoughtful. Done properly, not quickly.
If someone reads this years from now, after seeing finished Redbird pieces, I hope they understand that nothing here was rushed. The same care that goes into a table or cabinet starts long before the first board is milled. It starts with the space itself.
Everything that follows will stand on this.
