Not a factory. Just me, my father's workshop, and a lot of trial and error.
Personalized Infinity Mirrors
The first infinity mirror I ever made wasn't meant to be sold. I put it together in my father's workshop, mostly just testing what I could do with the equipment there — laser cutting, laser marking, UV printing. I gave it to someone close to me as a gift, almost as an afterthought, and the reaction caught me off guard. People kept asking where it came from.
That's what pushed me to take it seriously. I spent about two months testing — different frame materials, different LED spacing, different print layers on the glass — before landing on a version that worked the way I wanted it to. A lot of that time went into failed attempts: reflections that looked flat instead of endless, prints that faded under the light, frames that didn't hold their shape the way I needed them to.
What I landed on: two panes, a ring of LEDs, and whatever you put in between — a name, initials, a date, a photo — repeating into a tunnel that doesn't seem to end. On a wall, it's art. On a shelf, it doubles as a mirror or a soft night light. Personalized with someone's name or face, it turns into something people don't really have a word for — somewhere between a keepsake and a decoration.
Every piece is still cut, printed, and assembled by hand in my father's workshop in Turkey — no production line, no pre-made templates sitting in a warehouse. Each order starts from a flat sheet of acrylic and glass only after you place it, custom-built around whatever you want at its center. I check the frame, the print, and the LED wiring myself before anything ships, because those two months of trial and error taught me exactly where things can go wrong — and I'd rather catch it here than have you find it after it arrives.
If you're not sure what to personalize yours with, message me — I'm happy to help you figure it out.
— Egemen
