The workshop is one room. That is not modesty — it is a constraint we chose, because a shop small enough to cross in four steps is a shop where nothing gets made without being seen.
The layout
The bench runs along the window wall. Everything that requires judgement about colour or finish happens there, in daylight, because shop lighting flatters brass in ways that daylight will not. If a finish looks right at the bench it will look right on a desk.
The engraver sits opposite, away from the window. It needs a stable temperature more than it needs light, and it produces fine dust that we would rather not have drifting across finished work.
What happens between them
Every piece crosses the room at least twice. It is cut and shaped at the bench, engraved across the room, then brought back to the window to be finished and checked. The second trip is the one that matters — it is where we catch the marks the engraver leaves and the flaws that only daylight shows.
Nothing is packed in the same session it is finished. A piece sits overnight and is looked at once more the next morning, because a maker who has been staring at an object for three hours is the worst possible judge of it.