OUR STORY
From Corporate Gravity to Craft
I spent 13 years of my life behind a desk, working within systems that measured people as numbers and output rather than humans and craft. The days were full, the calendars packed, and the expectations clear, but the work itself felt increasingly distant from anything tangible or meaningful. Decisions were made far from the people affected by them, and success rarely translated into a better day-to-day life.
About a year before everything truly clicked, my brother-in-law in Wyoming handed me a jar of heirloom leaven passed down from his grandmother. I kept it alive without much intention at first, feeding it, caring for it, letting it rest. I did not yet know why it mattered, but I kept showing up for it anyway.
Then one day, I baked a loaf with real focus and care. No rushing. No multitasking. Just hands, time, and attention.
Something shifted.
That first bake felt grounding in a way I had not experienced before. The process demanded patience. The result felt honest. For the first time in a long while, I had created something real, something that existed because I gave it time, trust, and respect.
Curiosity quickly turned into craft. Baking became a way to slow down and reconnect with work that has weight and presence. A way to trade urgency for fermentation and abstraction for something you can hold, tear, and share.
Supernova Bakehouse was born from that realization, a quiet but undeniable decision to step away from systems that did not care and toward something built by hand. A commitment to patience, intention, and flavor that only comes from time and care.
Today, I bake artisan sourdough and cosmic comfort bakes in small batches, guided by curiosity, instinct, and deep respect for the craft.
Welcome to my orbit.
