FlowForm / Spatula

The final spatula was sculpted as a seamless extension of the human forearm, with each curve formed to imitate the rotational dynamics of the ulna and radius. By distributing material to support agility, grip, and directional control, the form balances aesthetic elegance with biomechanical precision. This enables intuitive, full-body engagement in scraping, lifting, and flipping tasks.

This project started with a block of wood and a deceptively open-ended prompt: make a spatula that works, feels good in the hand, and communicates its purpose through form alone. From the beginning, I knew I didn’t want to just carve out a generic kitchen tool. My inspiration was instantly identified when I came across the theory of 'mechanomorphism' or the tendency of humans to see machine-like behavior in other humans. Since the spatula is in it's simplest form a tool, I wanted to treat it like an extension of the body, something that could move with the arm, not just sit in the hand. That meant diving into the anatomy of the forearm, studying how the ulna and radius rotate, and figuring out how to translate that motion into curves and surfaces that actually support it.

I spent a lot of time sketching, modeling in foam, and mapping out how the hand interacts with tools, not just where it grips, but how it shifts, rotates, and applies pressure. Every curve in the final form was placed with intention, balancing aesthetics with physical logic. I used orthographic drawings to lock in the geometry, and the foam models helped me test proportions and transitions before committing to wood. The goal was to make something that felt like it belonged in motion, agile, responsive, and precise.

The fabrication process was its own kind of challenge. We were only allowed four bandsaw cuts, and half of the resulting edges had to stay sharp and untouched. That forced me to be really deliberate about where I removed material and how I shaped the rest. I used sanding not just to smooth things out but to sculpt subtle transitions that guide the hand and direct movement. It was a slow, iterative process with a lot of back and forth between the tool and my own body, checking how it felt, how it moved, and whether it was doing what I needed it to do.

In the end, the spatula became more than just a tool. It became a study in how form can carry meaning and motion. It’s not flashy, but it achieved my goal of using design thinking and the idea of nature replicating mechanical movements to calculate a form. Every surface is doing something, whether it’s catching the palm, guiding the thumb, or shifting weight for better control. It’s a small object, but it taught me a lot about how to design with anatomy, movement, and material in mind, and how much clarity you can get from working within tight constraints.