Stay with me here...

At age 15, I bought my first car. It was a beaten down 1971 Chevy Nova that needed a lot of TLC, and got to work restoring it with the help of my father. Pops taught me to work hard, then work harder (parts were expensive), and use all five senses in order to do it. He challenged me to grow the passion, confidence, and focus necessary to turn my vision into reality. The car wasn’t the fastest, the rarest, or the prettiest, but I quickly discovered there was no other feeling quite like rebuilding something that had been taken apart.

After graduating from University of Manitoba with a bachelor’s in commerce in 2004, I knew two things. I didn’t love university, and I wanted to work with my hands.

A month later, my family home in Winnipeg — a charming 100-year-old Victorian with a cedar shake roof and stained-glass windows — burned down in a matter of hours, the result of arson.

Wanting to help, I secured what was meant to be a short-term position with the company hired to rebuild our home. Realizing that wood was a touch more forgiving than steel, I was captivated by the work and decided to shift my focus to homebuilding. I later bartended the housewarming party for my parents’ newly finished abode, and true to my talents, proceeded to overdeliver…or overserve, in this case. The last person standing happened to be Ralph, a builder from Alberta, who offered me a job. Despite having no other connections in the city, it was an easy decision to fill the band van and make the move to Edmonton.

In 2005, I joined Ralph and his sons as a field tech digging trenches in the mud but found more was always asked of me. I knew never to say no to an opportunity so climbed quickly in the company, which meant more information to absorb. By 2012, I was running one of Ralph’s small volume builder outfits. It was during that time that I made my most important discovery: my weaknesses. I knew what I was, and it wasn’t big time. In order for a home to be tightly constructed and fit its owners just right, there couldn’t be too many hands on too many projects. So I decided this: let’s downsize, get personal and start a small infill company. Let’s find people who can support each other’s weaknesses to allow their strengths to flourish.

In February of 2021, it was time to go out on my own and I opened Infill North.

I was — and continue to be — passionate about creating a small volume company centered on vision and connection with the community. In short, I like to build innovative homes for innovative people. Having lost my childhood home so suddenly, I understand that while a house can be a piece of art, it is still just a house if it doesn’t have people and community to fill and surround it.

We've been at it a few years, and proud of what we've accomplished so far.

The Nihilo earn a spot in the top 5 Infill’s in Edmonton (2000-4000 sq.ft.) at the Canadian Home Builder’s Association Awards of Excellence (Edmonton Region).

Today, Infill North continues to be small, personal, and focused on serving its community here in northern Alberta.

Building, or rebuilding, houses is about getting to know people on a real level, and, along the way, creating something amazing together.  I live where I want to build, and I build where I want to live. Edmonton is home.