In other words, Hunter Dahlberg has every teenage boy’s dream job.

Dahlberg is a blacksmith, an ancient profession that has survived the industrial, agricultural and high-tech revolutions. Blacksmiths like Dahlberg afford locals an opportunity to order one-of-a-kind forged products made for purposes that range from decorative to daily use, and sometimes a little of both. iPhones and propane tanks aside, it’s a trade that has retained many of the tools and techniques of its earliest practitioners.

Apparently, the stereotypical burly blacksmith “look” is still in style. At 6 foot, 2 inches, Dahlberg is a big dude with massive forearms. Without knowing him, you might confuse him for a rock climber turned motorcycle gang member.

What surprised me, though, was the organization and artistry that Dahlberg has cultivated inside his industrial studio. When we met, he was working on a set of iron slats that will one day decorate and support a large wooden door on a new brewery in town. Most of Dahlberg’s projects are contract jobs for area residents and business. And unlike a welder, Dahlberg forges his pieces, using handmade rivets to join the various iron materials.

“Welds are ugly—I don’t like looking at them,” Dahlberg said, but admitted that part of his distaste for welds stems from his deficiencies in that realm.

Though welding, or fabricating, is a necessary evil for things like handrails, he employs it only for fine tuning.

Dahlberg’s handrails prove he’s no one-trick-pony. He’s made full sets of stairs with rails to match and in styles that run the gamut from post-modern to a hammered, hand-wrought iron that he calls “rustic contemporary.” You can see the same spectrum of styles in his other works, which range from furniture, to sculpture, to home accents and architecture. He even provides lessons for young, aspiring blacksmiths.

For a big, dirty dude, Dahlberg is disarmingly sensitive and genuine. And while this may be “man’s” work, he’s happy to share his craft with school children, which he does several times a year.

“Watching their faces light up—it’s amazing,” he said. “We all want to feel proud about something we’ve done.”

Dahlberg’s interest in teaching was so strong that he originally pursued a Masters in education, but decided to bag the idea in 2004 in favor of apprenticing for Les Michel, a New Mexican blacksmith who became Dahlberg’s mentor. After working with Michel for six weeks, Dahlberg had an epiphany.

“Oh man, I just want to be a blacksmith!” he remembers thinking. Somewhere a propane tank went on.

Eight years later, surrounded by heavy tools and heavy metal, Dahlberg hasn’t looked back.

Pechan, who has lived in Bend for nine years with his wife and two kids, runs the one-man operation Central Oregon Woodworking. If you want a cheap piece of furniture you should look elsewhere, but if you want a unique design that will last for generations, Pechan is the man to talk to.

“If it’s made out of wood, bring an idea by and I’ll do it,” Pechan said during a recent visit to his workshop.

Although Pechan comes from a line of cabinetmakers, he studied finance in school, and worked in that field until the economy started to go downhill in 2008. He had been dabbling in woodwork, but decided to start his own business a few years ago.

“There’s no particle board and no MDF (medium density fiberboard) in my work—it’s all solid wood,” Pechan said. “It’s quite a bit different from furniture anywhere else.”

A lot of the furniture you see in stores is not made of real wood, even if it looks that it way, and most pieces have a polyurethane finish or a man-made varnish, Pechan said. Both of these finishes show any marks or nicks, and if you want to hide them, you have to re-finish them or take off the top layer and glue on a new one, Pechan said.

Natural finishes are important to Pechan, so he frequently uses beeswax, orange oil and linseed oil.

“Some of the finishes you could dip your hand in and eat it, they are so natural,” Pechan said.

Because he uses solid wood and natural finishes, if a piece gets marked or scratched, all he has to do is run it through his sander and rub some oil on it. He has tables in his house that have been heavily used by his two kids, but you would never know if by looking at them.

Not only is Pechan’s work durable, it is also beautiful. He uses a lot of reclaimed or recycled wood, and works with its flaws and the grain of the wood to emphasize patterns designs within it.

“You’ll never find pieces of wood like it from a lumber company,” Pechan said.

Pechan’s attention to detail is apparent in his most recent project, a set of hutches with stained glass windows made by another local artisan, Rich DeWilde. Part of the wood for the hutch was lighter that the rest. Pechan cut those pieces so that the lighter parts are on the inside lower corners of the drawers and look like the sun rising.

“I try to use medium to high grade wood,” Pechan said. “It may cost a little more but it lasts longer and doesn’t fall apart. Quality is really important to me.”

As an artist, Shelley Futch Anderson doesn’t think she fits into the Bend art scene. She’s been involved with PoetHouse Art, but has a few years on most of the artists there. On the other side of the spectrum, her work has a more contemporary feel than that of her peers. Anderson creates oil paintings with a conscience and thanks to her background in commercial graphic design has begun incorporating another layer into her art.

Her latest series features an oil painting behind dye sublimation on chiffon. What does that mean exactly? In front of the painting on a sturdy frame made by her husband Pauly, also an artist who headed up the snow sculpting at WinterFest, hangs a piece of fabric with an image print on it. The combination creates a multidimensional piece of art, unlike anything other local artists are currently doing.

Stuart Breidenstein likes to say he creates “jewelry for weirdos.” But if that’s the case, then Bend has more than a few weirdos drooling over his unique creations: masks made of metal and leather, round-eyed aviator goggles and pendants with polished trapezoids of ebony and moveable gears. Breidenstein’s work gathers different media – from wood to copper to bright pink Nerds candy – and imaginatively walks the line between wearable fine art and edgy high fashion.