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Making the Unthinkable
Photogrammetry: Building a Booth on a Budget
Photogrammetry: Building a Booth on a Budget
Building a Photogrammetry Booth on a Budget
Building a Photogrammetry Booth on a Budget
After testing RealityCapture and experimenting with different scanning methods, I quickly realized that manually taking 100+ photos per subject was both time-consuming and error-prone. Even the slightest movement—whether from the subject or something in the background—could disrupt the entire scan. This problem would only be exponentially worse with living subjects, especially small children or pets.
I had a vision: a photogrammetry booth that could instantly capture an entire subject from multiple angles, reducing errors and speeding up the process. Ideally, I wanted to complete this project within six months so I could set it up at my wedding, preserving 3D models of our wedding party and guests as unique keepsakes.
The biggest challenge was cost. Commercial photogrammetry booths were prohibitively expensive, with even the cheapest options running five figures. I needed a scalable, low-cost solution that could capture images instantly and accurately.
I had seen projects using single-board computers with camera modules, but after breaking down the costs—camera, memory card, power supply, and other parts—each unit would cost over $60. Scaling to a 50-camera setup meant this approach was financially unrealistic.
After some brainstorming, I landed on an alternative: repurposing old Android phones. I found limited-functionality demo models for around $20 each—far cheaper than dedicated camera modules. While these phones had small onboard memory, they could store a few scripts and a few dozen 12MP photos, making them viable for my setup.
Thus estimating I could commit to a $2,500 budget for a 50-camera setup—a fraction of the cost of a commercial booth. I ordered a few test phones to explore controlling them remotely before scaling up.
Early tests with 10 phones using a commercially available USB control software showed promise. However, as I expanded the system, I ran into power limitations—the more phones I added, the more power I needed, increasing the project's cost. With wedding expenses piling up, I had to shelve the project.
Months later, I revisited the idea and found a way to reduce power consumption—instead of transferring images over USB, I could use WiFi for communication while keeping the phones on minimal power draw.
There wasn’t a pre-built software solution for this, but with some help, I wrote a Python-based control system using Flask servers on the phones. This allowed my PC to send commands wirelessly to each phone, reducing power requirements and improving flexibility of my hardware options.
By the time I finally acquired 40 more demo phones, it was too late for the wedding, but I now had a functional 50-camera system. After weeks of testing and tweaking, I streamlined the process:
Each phone would connect manually via a shell script, establishing communication with the server.
The server would trigger all 50 phones to capture and store an image, assigning filenames based on each phone’s unique ID.
The images were then sent back to the server over WiFi before being deleted from the phone to free up memory.
The entire capture process took under 5 seconds, with images delivered in less than 10 seconds.
For the physical frame I wanted to make it light and portable, I opted to use low-cost materials I already had, including a portable gazebo and PVC piping. I dove into Cad designing custom, adjustable, multi-axial mounts, which I could produce for around 50 cents each using metal hardware and 3D printing.
While the system was functional, and able to produce full body scans, the limited processing power and camera quality of the phones made it difficult to work with. A full-body scan would ideally require closer to 100 cameras to achieve the detail necessary for high-quality models, and I couldn’t justify investing further into this particular phone model.
However, the lessons I learned were invaluable. The core concept works, and with improvements in AI-based image reconstruction, I believe future software could compensate for lower-quality sensors, making this approach even more viable.
For now, I plan to repurpose the setup into a smaller rig specifically for scanning pets and small objects, where fewer cameras are needed for good results. While it didn’t make it to the wedding, this project proved that an affordable, scalable photogrammetry booth is possible—and I’m excited to refine the concept even further.
Photogrammerty: Software & Capturing Reality
Photogrammerty: Software & Capturing Reality
Photogrammetry has always fascinated me—the ability to turn real-world objects into high-detail digital assets opens up endless creative possibilities. I set out to explore various software options to find the best balance between ease of use, affordability, and feature set. After testing Meshroom, Agisoft Metashape, and RealityCapture, I ultimately found RealityCapture to have the most straightforward workflow and a pricing model that allowed me to access all features for specific projects without a massive upfront investment.
My primary goal was to learn how to capture people, vehicles, and similar-sized artifacts with high accuracy. To start, I ran controlled tests using a mannequin dressed in various patterns and textures to observe how different materials affected the reconstruction process. Next, I moved on to a stuffed animal sitting in a chair, curious to see how the software handled the sharp edges of the furniture compared to the soft, organic shapes of the plush figure.
With these smaller-scale tests complete, I took the process outdoors and scanned two of my trucks to see how photogrammetry handled reflective surfaces, complex shapes, and varying lighting conditions. Each iteration taught me more about ideal camera angles, texture fidelity, and the impact of different lighting conditions on the final 3D model.
This hands-on experience gave me a solid foundation in photogrammetry, and I’m now looking to apply these lessons to building a custom camera rig that will allow for quick and efficient scanning of people, pets, and other small objects. With the right setup, I hope to streamline the capture process, making it faster and more accessible for future projects.
As I continue refining my workflow, I’m excited to push the limits of what’s possible with photogrammetry and integrate these techniques into my creative and engineering projects.
For my latest Project, I set out to design and build a giant erector set using fencing materials. The idea was to create a system of modular components that could be assembled into complex structures, such as geodesic domes or other architectural forms. What made this project particularly exciting was the custom tooling I developed to transform ordinary fencing materials into precision-engineered parts.
The centerpiece of this project was a custom-designed blade for my hydraulic press. It allowed me to crimp and simultaneously punch holes and semi-circle the ends of pipes. These modifications were essential for enabling the pipes to connect securely with bolts, forming strong joints for the larger structures. Designing the blade was a challenge in itself, requiring careful consideration of the materials, the forces involved, and the precision needed for the parts to align perfectly. I used CAD software to prototype the blade design and iterated on it to ensure it could withstand the pressure of the hydraulic press while delivering consistent results.
Once the blade was complete, I moved on to the assembly process. I sourced standard fencing pipes, which are affordable and widely available, and ran them through the hydraulic press with the custom blade. The crimping and hole-punching operations were smooth and efficient, allowing me to produce a large quantity of components in a relatively short amount of time. The semi-circled ends not only made the pipes easier to bolt together but also added a sleek, professional look to the finished assemblies.
With the parts ready, I began constructing various structures to test the system. One of the first prototypes was a small geodesic dome, which showcased the versatility and strength of the design. The bolted joints held up beautifully under stress, and the modular nature of the components allowed for quick adjustments and reconfigurations. I’ve also experimented with other shapes, like prisms and towers, demonstrating the potential for applications in everything from temporary shelters to artistic installations.
This project was a perfect blend of engineering and creativity. It not only pushed my skills in tool design and fabrication but also opened up a world of possibilities for modular construction using readily available materials. I’m already thinking about how to expand the system further, perhaps by integrating other materials.
When it came to designing wedding jewelry for my wife and me, I wanted to create something truly unique—pieces that not only reflected our personalities but also carried deep personal meanings. The journey started with a simple idea: to design rings that would commemorate our story and symbolize the love and commitment we share. Using CAD software, I began sketching out concepts and experimenting with different ideas, knowing that the final pieces would need to be perfect in both form and feel.
For my wife’s ring, I incorporated a lotus flower into the centerpiece. The lotus holds a special meaning for her, symbolizing beauty and resilience. Its petals nested in 3 tiers represent the day we first met. and an encirclement of coffee leaves symbolizing her life long obsession with the plant. I went through multiple iterations, tweaking the shape meticulously for beauty and balance.
For my own ring, I wanted the design to look have the same ascetics but exude a bit more masculinity. I opted to encircle the band in the same coffee leaves that dawned her individual bands, but it needed something special I knew she would like. She is always a bit anxious and fidgeting with what ever is in her hands, so I thought it would be cute if she had a reason to reach for my hand whenever these feelings washed over her. Print in place fidget rings had been popular for some time, but that functionality does not lend itself well to the casting process. Inspired by a cv-axle I had disassembled in the past I designed an internal band for my ring with small gaps that allowed in to slide inside of the outer ring when oriented in just the right spot. This allowed it to spin freely on my finger and gave me another place to conceal our special date. This also meant I would be able to wear the internal band as a functional standalone piece if deemed necessary to avoid injury.
The 3D printing stage was crucial for bringing the designs to life. I used resin prints to create physical prototypes that I could hold, examine, and refine. This allowed me to ensure that the rings were not only visually stunning but also comfortable to wear. The prototypes revealed features I couldn’t fully appreciate in the digital designs, such as how the petals of the lotus would sit against the finger or how the band’s curve would feel over time. Each iteration brought me closer to the perfect result, blending aesthetic beauty with everyday practicality.
Once the designs were finalized, I sent them to Shapeways for production. opting to have hers cast in sterling silver, and mine 3d printed in directly in stainless steel. a few weeks later when they arrived I took her ring to a local jeweler to have her stone set and polished a bit more. While I Polished the insides of my band for smoothness, finding the tiny layer lines on the outside to be ascetically pleasing and part if the bands charm. She was completely in awe when receiving her rings and blown away by all of the detail included in them
Designing and creating custom wedding jewelry was one of the most rewarding projects I’ve ever undertaken. It combined creativity, technical skill, and emotional significance in a way that no other project has. The process of turning our story into something tangible and lasting was an incredible experience, and the resulting pieces are truly one of a kind.
One of the most exciting modifications I’ve made to my 1952 Chevrolet pickup truck was crafting a completely custom bumper that transforms the vehicle’s look and personality. The idea was to create something bold, functional, and a little wild—a bumper that could turn heads and spark conversations. The result? A unique, shark-inspired bumper that features a set of cast aluminum megalodon teeth and a dynamic design that makes it look like the truck could "chew" on anything in its path.
The project began with a bumper salvaged from a 1957 Chevrolet sedan While the original piece had great lines and character, I needed to modify it significantly to fit the truck and achieve the desired effect. I started by trimming the metal to create a sleeker profile that would complement the truck’s rugged aesthetics. After reshaping the bumper, I added a custom center support bar to reinforce the structure and provide a mounting point for the next big feature: the teeth.
The teeth were cast in aluminum I had left over from a previous endeavour. Inspired by the fearsome bite of a megalodon shark and a sharkweek episode of mythbusters I had to make more. I made molds for the teeth to use as plugs so I could recast plaster molds and consistenly cast the aluminum. Once they were ready, I bolted a dozen of them into place along the center support of the bumper. The sharp, exaggerated shapes of the teeth instantly transformed the truck’s appearance, giving it an aggressive, cartoonishly menacing look that really brought the truck to life.
To take the design even further, I integrated a linear actuator and a hinge mechanism into the bumper. The actuator allows the entire assembly to open and close, creating the illusion that the truck can "chew" on whatever it approaches. Watching the bumper "bite" is endlessly entertaining and adds an interactive element that makes the truck even more unique.
The finished bumper is not only a statement piece but also a testament to the creativity and craftsmanship that went into the build. It combines elements of fabrication, casting, and mechanical engineering, all tied together by an outlandish concept. Every time I take the truck out, the bumper draws attention and sparks conversations with anyone in view. It’s a reminder that customization isn’t just about improving performance or function—it’s about bringing personality and joy to the machines we love.
If you’re considering a custom bumper or any other bold modification, I recommend letting your imagination run wild. The process of taking an idea from concept to reality is incredibly rewarding, and the result is a one-of-a-kind creation that truly reflects your vision.
Aluminum Casting: The Not So Heavy Metal
Aluminum Casting: The Not So Heavy Metal
After experimenting with foam investment casting, I wanted to push my aluminum foundry work in a new direction. This time, I set out to create oversized belt buckles shaped like fossilized Megalodon teeth. The goal was to refine my investment casting techniques while producing something both functional and visually striking.
I started with a lost wax casting method, using a silicone mold I had previously made to create wax replicas of the teeth. Once I had the wax positives, I coated them in alternating layers of plaster and sand, building up a durable shell. After letting them fully cure, I placed the molds in a convection oven to melt out the wax, leaving behind a hollow cavity ready for metal casting. I buried these hardened shells in casting sand, attached an external sprue, and carefully poured in molten aluminum. The process worked well, producing detailed aluminum replicas, but it was time-consuming. The drying time for each mold slowed production, and since the original silicone mold didn’t fully capture one side of the teeth, I wasn’t entirely satisfied with process.
To improve efficiency, I took a different approach. Instead of pouring wax into the original silicone mold, I used it to create a second silicone mold, which allowed me to cast directly in plaster. By pouring liquid plaster into the new mold and letting it dry completely, I could skip the wax stage altogether. Once hardened, the plaster molds could be used for direct aluminum casting, eliminating the need for multi-layered investment coatings. This method proved to be much faster and more efficient. Each plaster mold could be reused two or three times before breaking down, cutting down on waste and increasing my production speed.
Through this experiment, I refined my approach to small-scale metal casting, learning that while lost wax casting is great for intricate one-off pieces, direct plaster molds offer a much more efficient solution for making multiple copies. In the future, I might explore ceramic shell coatings or reinforced high-temperature plasters to improve mold longevity. But for now, I have a solid method for creating these massive aluminum Megalodon I plan to use in multiple project soon.
As a fan of Attack on Titan, I wanted to take my love for the series to the next level by creating a larger-than-life cosplay of the Colossal Titan. My goal was to build a costume that would leave a jaw-dropping impression at conventions while remaining functional, lightweight, and portable enough to travel in a standard car.
The costume's scale was my biggest challenge. Standing nearly 12 feet tall, I augmented my height with stilts and designed a helmet-mounted head, CNC carved from insulation polystyrene and rotocasted in urethane. To complete the hulking appearance, I created inflatable "skin" for the Titan using nylon ripstop with custom 3d printed ductwork, a 12V fan, and a clear viewing window at eye level for visibility. The result was an imposing yet surprisingly portable giant that could be packed down and transported with ease.
One of the most intricate parts of the costume was the hands. I initially experimented with finger extensions made from sliced garden hoses, inspired by a STEM forum where students created actuated hands using strings and McDonald's straws. While this prototype captured the basic mechanics, I later designed 3D-printed joints that incorporated small springs for more natural and fluid movements. This upgrade gave the hands a lifelike quality that added to the costume's overall realism.
Despite the costume's lightweight materials, navigating large crowds while on stilts proved to be a challenge. Many venues understandably discourage cosplayers from wearing stilts due to liability concerns, making it difficult to showcase the Colossal Titan at its full height. However, I’ve been brainstorming ways to revive this project by transforming it into an animatronic puppet, eliminating the need for stilts while retaining its towering presence.
This project has been a labor of love, blending engineering, artistry, and passion for anime into a cosplay that truly stands out. I’m excited to revisit the Colossal Titan and push its design even further, ensuring it remains a memorable centerpiece at future conventions.
Aluminum Casting: Skulls
Aluminum Casting: Skulls
With my newly built aluminum foundry, I was eager to experiment with different casting techniques. I had seen foam investment casting online, where molten metal burns away a foam pattern, leaving behind a detailed metal replica. So, when I spotted foam skull decorations at the Dollar Tree during Halloween season, I knew it was the perfect time to give it a try.
Prepping the skulls I had to create a path for the molten aluminum by attaching a sprue. The method was a bit crude but effective. I started by cutting a chunk of pink polystyrene and attaching the it to the back of each skull using a pair of toothpicks. Then securing the connection by wrapping the joint with plaster bandage for reinforcement.
Once the sprues were in place, I needed to encase the foam skulls in a material that would hold up to the molten metal. Instead of using a professional investment slurry, I opted for a DIY plaster shell. First I brushed on thinned plaster of Paris to coat the entire skull. Repeating the process two more times, caking a bit of used casting sand on after the last two layers building up a solid outer layer. Thus creating a sand and plaster “jawbreaker” shell with a foamy skull center.
After letting the molds fully dry for a few days, they were ready to bury in casting sand and pour. With the skulls buried up to their sprue tops in casting sand, it was time for the real fun—pouring in the molten aluminum. The moment the hot metal made contact with the foam, it burned away instantly, filling the negative space left behind and capturing every tiny detail of the original foam skulls.
Once cooled, I carefully broke away the hardened plaster shell, revealing the fully cast aluminum skulls. I was blown away by the level of detail—even the subtle foam texture had been preserved in the final metal form!
This experiment proved that foam investment casting is a viable technique, even with simple materials like plaster and sand. However, I also realized that for jobs requiring extreme precision and repeatability, it would be worth investing in a professional investment casting slurry.
Custom Lighting: For the Heavy Footed
Custom Lighting: For the Heavy Footed
When I set out to build custom taillights for my 1952 Chevrolet pickup, I wanted something truly unique—something that would fit the "Drove straight from the bottom of the ocean" theme I had in mind. I had planned for the truck to incorporate metal shark teeth in various places, and I had even considered replacing the steering wheel with an antique ship’s helm. I wanted the taillights to follow this same maritime inspiration while making a bold statement on the road.
I landed on the idea of using glass bottles as taillight housings, playing off the concept of taillights as signals or "messages" to other drivers—so why not send my messages in bottles? I also drew inspiration from early brass diving bells, incorporating their rugged, early industrial aesthetic.
Starting with a pair of frosted glass bottles sealed with rubber corks. These would act as both the lenses and protective portholes for my LEDs and help diffuse the lighting. To ensure everything fit precisely, I took careful measurements and designed a CAD model that would securely hold the bottles while keeping the electronics safe from moisture and other hazards.
I printed a prototype housing in PLA, but it quickly became clear that PLA wouldn’t hold up to the demands of the open road, heat and vibrations were major concerns. I needed something stronger and more durable.
After a bit of sanding/painting, apply a bit of strategic clay and mold release agent I used a spare bottle to plug the opening in the prototype constructing a composite silicone mold encased in a fiberglass shell around this 3dprinted buck. After deconstructing the unit and reinstalling another glass bottle with a generous amount of lubricant I could pour in a 2 part urethane resin and rota-cast whole Tail light assemblies.
This technique gave me hollow, lightweight, durable taillight housings that could securely hold the glass bottles in place. They did require a bit o post processing via drilling holes to clear openings for the light to pass through. I was worried the depth would make it harder to demold but using a bit less clay when sealing these gaps might have been a better move.
To complete the porthole-style look, I added three decorative guard bar plates over each "lens." Since these weren’t structural, I 3D-printed them separately and attached them using a high-strength, vibration-resistant silicone adhesive.
After some careful painting and weathering, the lights looked like they had been pulled straight from a sunken ship, perfectly complementing the truck’s look.
This project was the perfect blend of creative problem solving, traditional craftsmanship, and modern fabrication techniques. From 3D modeling and prototyping to mold-making and resin casting, it pushed my skills in automotive customization and thematic design. Seeing them lit on the back of my truck made every step worth it.
Engineering My Relief: A Custom Exoskeleton
Chronic back pain is a challenge that can shape every part of daily life. After a car accident left me with a ruptured disk and lingering discomfort, I found myself searching for a solution to make life more manageable. Unfortunately, the back supports I tried either weren’t strong enough or durable enough to meet my needs. I wanted something that would provide the same relief I felt when my upper body was supported by hanging—a method that significantly reduced my pain. So, I set out to engineer my own solution: a custom exoskeleton back brace.
After extensive research into decompression methods, I decided to use charged gas shocks to offset the weight of my upper torso. These shocks provided the precise support I needed while maintaining mobility. To make the system wearable, I adapted military surplus belts, designing and 3D-printing a custom mounting system that distributed the force evenly across a large area to prevent discomfort or pressure points. The result was a brace that felt supportive yet unobtrusive, striking a comfortable balance after fine-tuning the shock strength to match my body’s needs.
Using the brace daily made a noticeable difference in my life. It allowed me to manage my pain while giving my back the support it needed to heal. Over time, I combined the decompression harness with targeted exercises to strengthen my core and back muscles, eventually reaching a point where I no longer needed to wear it. Seeing the potential of my design, I also created a prototype for a friend dealing with a similar injury. He reported a newfound ability to enjoy activities like riding his motorcycle during the periods he used it, which validated my efforts even further.
However, not everyone saw the brace in the same light. When I showed it to medical professionals overseeing my care, their reactions were mixed. Some expressed concerns that prolonged use could weaken my muscles over time, while others were impressed by how I’d managed to create something that brought me relief. Most, however, emphasized that they couldn’t technically recommend it since it was an untested device. Despite this, I remain proud of what I created. It was a practical, functional tool that helped me reclaim my life, even if only temporarily, and provided a path to recovery I hadn’t thought possible.
This project was more than just an engineering challenge—it was a reminder of how innovation and determination can lead to solutions that improve quality of life.
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