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A recognizable design language rarely appears fully formed. It usually develops through repetition, mistakes, material tests, unexpected results, and a long sequence of small decisions. In furniture making, this process can be especially visible because every material reacts differently to cutting, sanding, finishing, temperature, pressure, and time. What eventually looks like a coherent aesthetic may have started as a collection of unrelated experiments carried out simply to understand what was possible.
This is particularly true when working with wood and resin. The contrast between an organic slab and a controlled synthetic material creates many variables to explore, from transparency and pigment depth to edge shape and surface finish. Looking at different approaches to epoxy resin tables shows how broad this field can be. Even when the basic ingredients remain the same, changes in proportion, colour, texture, geometry, and finishing can lead to completely different visual outcomes.
How Oleksiy’s Experiments Became a Starting Point
For ThunderWood Studio founder Oleksiy Kozankevych, woodworking did not begin as a conventional career path. His academic background was in finance rather than art, furniture design, or woodworking. Much of what he later applied in the workshop came from self-directed learning, practical experimentation, and the process of gradually understanding materials through hands-on work.
One of the early triggers was surprisingly simple: an image of an engraved piece of tree trunk that he wanted to recreate himself. That attempt opened the door to a broader interest in woodworking, followed by experiments with epoxy resin and techniques discovered through online videos and repeated testing.
At first, the projects were relatively small. Resin was used for objects such as bracelets, rings, phone covers, and lamps. These early pieces gave Oleksiy a manageable way to learn how resin behaved before moving on to furniture, where mistakes become considerably more expensive and difficult to correct.
The importance of this stage was not necessarily in the objects themselves. It was in developing a habit of experimenting: changing a formula, observing the result, adjusting timing, testing colour, and learning why one attempt succeeded while another did not.
Over time, that process led to his own resin formulas and a more personal understanding of what wood and epoxy could do together.
Learning to Work With the Natural Shape of Wood
One of the fundamental design questions in live-edge furniture is how much of the original wood should remain untouched.
A slab can be heavily refined until it behaves almost like a conventional rectangular tabletop, or its irregular contours can become the main visual feature. Neither approach is automatically better. The challenge is finding the point where natural variation feels intentional rather than unfinished.
Experimentation often begins with edge treatment. Removing loose bark while preserving the underlying shape can reveal curves, cavities, small cracks, and changes in thickness that would disappear in more conventional furniture production.
These irregularities influence nearly every later decision. A dramatic edge may require a quieter base. A complex grain pattern may work better beside restrained resin. A slab with large voids may suggest a completely different composition from one with a nearly continuous surface.
For a largely self-taught maker such as Oleksiy, working directly with different slabs became part of the education. Instead of applying a fixed design formula, each new piece of timber could present a different practical problem to solve.
This gradually reinforces an important principle: the material cannot always be forced into a predetermined idea. Sometimes the strongest design develops from responding to the particular slab.
Testing the Balance Between Wood and Resin
The proportion between wood and resin has a major effect on the character of a finished piece.
Early experiments may focus on simple fills, where resin is used mainly to stabilize cracks or close natural voids. From there, it becomes possible to explore more ambitious layouts: narrow river channels, large central gaps, offset resin sections, or designs in which two separate slabs are visually connected by a transparent or coloured pour.
Each format creates a different balance.
When resin occupies only a small area, the wood remains dominant and the synthetic material acts almost like a structural detail. In a wider river-table composition, resin becomes a second visual material with equal importance.
Finding the right proportion requires more than measuring width. The grain direction, slab thickness, edge movement, and colour of the timber all affect how large the resin section appears.
A narrow dark channel may feel visually stronger than a much wider clear one. Similarly, a highly figured slab can compete with complex pigmentation, while quieter timber may allow the resin to become more expressive.
Repeated testing turns these observations into practical instincts that are difficult to acquire from theory alone.
Exploring Colour Without Losing Material Depth
Pigment experiments are another important stage in developing a consistent visual identity.
Resin offers almost unlimited colour options, but unlimited choice can easily become a problem. Bright pigments, metallic powders, translucent dyes, opaque colours, layered tones, and subtle tints all interact differently with wood.
The first question is usually not simply which colour looks attractive. It is how the colour behaves next to a specific timber tone.
Cool blues may create a strong contrast with warm walnut. Smoky grey can produce a quieter transition. Black can emphasize silhouette and geometry, while transparent resin keeps attention on the natural void beneath the surface.
Depth also matters. A colour that appears almost black in a thick pour may look transparent along a thinner edge. Metallic pigments can shift dramatically depending on lighting and viewing angle.
Oleksiy’s early resin experiments were particularly useful here because working with smaller objects allowed different combinations to be tested without committing to a full tabletop. As the scale increased, the lesson became more complicated: an effect that looks interesting in a sample may feel overwhelming when stretched across several feet of furniture.
Through repeated pours, it becomes easier to understand when colour adds dimension and when it begins to compete with the wood.
How Marine Themes Introduced a New Direction
One theme that became particularly important in Oleksiy’s experiments was the visual character of the sea.
He has described being fascinated by marine imagery, especially the appearance of foamy waves moving toward a sandy shore. Translating that effect into wood and epoxy introduced a different kind of challenge from a straightforward river table.
Instead of creating a simple coloured section, the goal became creating the impression of movement.
That meant working with multiple tones, transparency, white highlights, and irregular contours while trying to avoid a result that looked too controlled or artificial.
Ocean-inspired resin work also highlighted one of the qualities that interested Oleksiy in the combination of resin and wood: exact repetition is extremely difficult. Wave contours change, pigment moves differently, and every piece of timber begins with its own grain and shape.
That unpredictability helped turn experimentation itself into part of the design process.
Experimenting With Movement and Ocean Effects
Creating convincing movement in resin depends on more than simply combining blue and white material.
Small differences in timing can change the entire result.
Resin viscosity evolves while curing. A pattern created too early may spread until it loses definition. A pattern introduced too late may sit unnaturally on the surface instead of blending into the composition.
Heat can also influence movement, creating cells, soft transitions, or sharper boundaries depending on how it is applied.
Experiments of this type reveal the difference between randomness and controlled irregularity. Natural-looking movement rarely comes from making every detail predictable. Instead, the maker establishes certain conditions and allows the material to respond within them.
The result is partly designed and partly discovered.
This balance can become an important part of a recognizable visual language because it avoids both extremes: complete uniformity and uncontrolled decoration.
Discovering the Importance of Surface Finish
Surface finish may appear to be a final technical stage, but it strongly influences design perception.
The same table can feel noticeably different depending on whether the surface is high-gloss, satin, matte, or somewhere in between.
Gloss emphasizes resin depth and reflection. It can make transparent sections appear more dramatic and highlight colour variations beneath the surface. At the same time, it may reveal fingerprints, scratches, and strong reflections more easily.
A satin or matte finish produces a softer impression. It can make the transition between timber and resin feel more unified and place greater emphasis on the overall shape rather than surface shine.
Experimenting with finishes also changes how the wood itself is perceived. Oils may deepen grain contrast, while other protective coatings can create a cleaner or more uniform appearance.
The final choice therefore becomes part of the design rather than simply a protective measure.
Rethinking the Relationship Between Top and Base
A tabletop rarely exists visually on its own. Its base changes the way the entire piece is interpreted.
This creates another area for experimentation.
A heavy slab paired with thick geometric legs can feel architectural and grounded. The same slab on a narrow steel base may appear lighter and more contemporary.
Bases can also either follow or oppose the geometry above them. Straight rectangular legs introduce order beneath an irregular live edge. Curved or angled structures can continue the movement already present in the tabletop.
Testing different combinations helps reveal how much visual weight a base should carry.
An elaborate top often benefits from simpler support, while a restrained slab may leave more room for a sculptural base.
There are practical considerations too. Leg position affects seating comfort, stability, and usable space. A visually interesting structure that interferes with chairs may not survive the transition from concept to functional furniture.
Working Through Imperfections Instead of Hiding Them
Wood contains knots, cracks, colour shifts, mineral streaks, insect traces, and other irregularities. A conventional manufacturing approach might treat many of these characteristics as defects.
Experimental furniture making creates another possibility: integrating them into the composition.
A crack may become a resin-filled line. A cavity can create an unexpected transparent section. An uneven edge may determine the orientation of the entire slab.
This does not mean that every imperfection should be preserved. Structural weakness still needs to be removed or stabilized. The important shift is learning to evaluate irregularities individually instead of automatically eliminating them.
For someone whose woodworking knowledge developed through practical problem-solving, irregular material can also become a source of new ideas. Instead of repeating an established template, the maker has to decide what each individual slab needs.
This approach gradually produces a design vocabulary based on variation.
Moving Away From Experiments That Do Not Work
Design identity is shaped as much by rejection as by discovery.
Some experiments appear promising in isolation but do not hold up when applied to finished furniture. A pigment may be visually impressive in a small sample but overwhelming across a large tabletop. A complicated leg structure may distract from the slab. A highly polished finish may feel wrong for a particular wood species.
These results are still useful.
Oleksiy’s path from small handmade pieces to larger furniture illustrates why failed or incomplete experiments can matter. Each attempt creates information about the material, even when the final object does not become a direction worth repeating.
Knowing what not to repeat gradually narrows the field of possibilities and creates consistency over time.
There may be no single moment when a style becomes defined. Instead, certain decisions simply begin to recur: particular proportions, quieter colour combinations, cleaner bases, distinctive resin movement, or a preference for preserving natural edges.
What once required deliberate experimentation slowly becomes instinctive.
From Isolated Tests to a Consistent Design Language
A mature design identity is rarely based on one signature technique. It is usually the result of several ideas working together.
Material selection influences colour. Colour affects resin transparency. Edge shape changes the required proportions. Surface finish alters the apparent depth. The base determines how heavy or light the final object feels.
Oleksiy’s development as a maker is a useful example of how this process can happen outside a traditional design education. A background in finance did not provide a ready-made woodworking method, so much of the visual language had to emerge through testing, self-education, observation, and repeated practical work.
Experiments are therefore not separate from the finished design language. They are the process through which that language is built.
Some tests lead directly to techniques that remain useful. Others reveal limitations. A few create unexpected effects that become starting points for entirely new directions.
The important part is repetition with observation.
In craft-based design, identity is rarely invented through abstract rules. It emerges from making physical objects, evaluating the results, adjusting the process, and repeating it until certain choices begin to feel natural.
That ongoing cycle of testing and refinement explains why distinctive furniture styles tend to evolve rather than appear overnight. Those interested in seeing how these accumulated experiments translate into finished work can learn more.
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