My parents didn’t think a T. rex skull would go with the wallpaper.
When I was a kid, dinosaurs were everything to me. I’d beg my parents to take me to the museum just so I could stand there in awe, staring up at those enormous skeletons. It was like stepping into another world, imagining these creatures walking the earth. I’d always leave thinking, “Man, how amazing would it be to have one of these in my room?” Spoiler: my parents didn’t think a T. rex skull would go with the wallpaper.
Life went on, but my dinosaur obsession never really faded. Fast forward 25 years, and I found myself getting curious about 3D printing. It seemed like the perfect way to combine creativity and technology, so I saved up, bought a printer, and dove in headfirst. Honestly? At first, it was a disaster. Filament jams, failed prints, pieces sticking where they shouldn’t—I thought I’d never get the hang of it. But I kept at it, watched an embarrassing amount of YouTube tutorials, and eventually, things started clicking.
I’d always been decent at drawing portraits, but 3D modeling? That was a whole new challenge. Sculpting something in a digital space and then watching it come to life as a physical object? That was magic. And then it hit me—what if I combined this newfound skill with my childhood fascination? What if I could make my own dinosaur skeleton?
Once that idea took hold, there was no going back. I started reading everything I could about fossil anatomy, digging through books and research papers, and learning from paleontologists and fellow enthusiasts. Slowly but surely, I started creating. At first, it was small bones and pieces, but over time, I worked my way up to entire skeletons.
Looking back, it’s kind of surreal. That little kid who stared up at museum displays would never believe that one day, I’d be building them myself. Now, here I am, surrounded by dinosaurs—not in a museum, but in my studio. Or as 10-year-old me would put it, “Welcome to Jurass… I mean, Nova Studios!”
