I think this is one of the hardest things to resolve for ANYBODY, let alone an artist or craftsman. It's a tough deal.
For me there has always been a strong personal component to the issue. I sell things directly to individuals, I create something with my hands and put it directly in the customer's hands, and this is a very intimate transaction at times. And I LIKE my customers, I become at least "friendly" with them, if not outright friends. So it's very hard for me to say "no" to something at times.
It's become something that I've decided to take on and work on very seriously though, because it's something I need to be able to do, both for myself, and prospective patrons. It's about protecting myself, but also about the best interests of the customers also.
In the past I've been asked, and maybe pressured a little, to occasionally add something or change some design of a project that I knew were likely not good changes.
But it's what the customer wanted, and they were paying, so I went with it. In a couple of cases in particular, it really came back to bite me, and the customers also. In one example, I added a feature to a sword, that I explained wasn't really the way "it should be", but the customer was on a budget, and was trying to get a little more "bang for the buck". Which I can understand, completely. But later on, this sword showed up on the internet being "reviewed" by another person, who was more expierienced and knowledgeable than the customer, and this person wasn't very kind in the review, especially with regards to the features added I mentioned.
And, unfortunately, he was right really.
But what was not mentioned, is that these changes were not of my doing or design, that they were requested by the customer, and I had merely attempted to provide the customer what he had asked for.
The result was that my work became in question for some time, I lost business, and the customer also ended up feeling "less than" because now he had a sword that had problems.
In another instance, again from a great deal of pressure from a customer, I made a sword pretty much entirely to his design, and where there were very serious concerns, I raised them very clearly, but, I was younger, he was "more knowledgeable", and I ended up just doing it the way he wanted. At a Western Martial Arts seminar perhaps a year later, the sword was examined by a number of respected practicioners, who found some flaws in the design and it's structure. And again, this went out far and wide as being an issue with my abilities, without mention of the fact it wasn't really "my" sword, it was somebody else's vision of a sword that I had merely made for them.
These things, I guess they sound somewhat petty and tied with ego. And they are to an extent. But these events also did a great deal of damage to my business also, and like any other business, you have to make an effort to avoid issues like this, it can do a great deal of harm that can take a long time to remedy.
So, now, I have to resign myself to the fact that I must work harder at saying "no" when it's appropriate to do so, both for myself, and the customer. I may lose one job or commission, but if I give in and do something I know I shouldn't, I may lose ten.
Outside all of the personal reasons I perform this craft, and love it, I still have to pay a mortgage and bills like everybody else. This is hard to remember sometimes.
There's another part of it that stands out to me. I have to stop taking on work I know I may not enjoy doing. When a craftsman is doing something that he doesn't like, I don't think he is going to do his best work. There are parts about any of it I don't really dig that much of course; I don't like the grinding very much, because of the noise and dust, but that's different in a way, it's a nessecary evil and I simply deal with that, that doesn't really have anything to do with the project, it's just a means to an end. But making something I don't really want to make, just for the money, that just doesn't do me any good, nor does it provide a customer with the best work I can produce, so again, in the end, It's just not doing anything positive for me when I look at the big picture.
I love making beautiful and useful things for people, to a large extent it's what drives me. But to preserve that, then "no" is a word that I need to embrace and make use of, when i know there is a need.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Tempo
Or "Rythym", I more commonly call it.
It's important, it's the underlying component of many of the things I do. It's important for efficiency and accuracy, and for a pace that's sustainable.
One of the standard anecdotes, in various forms, goes something like;
There are two men in the smithy, a young man, and the Old Master. Both are forging, the young man hammers away quickly, almost desperately, with a hurried pace and always an eye on keeping up with the Old Man.
The old man, brings down the hammer almost slowly, but always at the same tempo, always hard, and sure, and in place.
At the end of the day, the young man is tired, and his pile of goods is smaller than the Old Man's, and even still, some of the goods are not made as well as they could be.
He's convinced the Old Man knows some trick or secret of the method he's not sharing, and his ego makes him resentful.
The young man sees his hammering and his work as a single large element that encompasses the entire day, and measures it that way, simply by how much he's made.
The Old Man, measures each single blow, one at a time. Each strike of the hammer is a single action and the effort, and his mind, is focused on that one moment. Every blow is powerful, accurate, and complete. Every blow is efficient, and propelled by a tempo that The Old man knows, from expierience, will serve him the whole day without getting tired, without the last of his blows being less than the first. One sure, measured blow, surpasses 10 of the unmeasured ones.
And so it is with many things in the shop really. Like draw-filing the faces of a sword-blade flat, for instance. It's a huge undertaking, and depending on just how flat you want it to be, how accurate you want it to turn out, it can be a challenging technical exercise also. The file doesn't just do it's work by its-self, it has to be guided in it's task. To do accurate work with hand tools is really all about "playing the averages". To wail away with the file in one spot without an eye to the whole, just makes a depression in that one spot, and it won't relate, or blend in with, the next spot. Tempo is what can overcome that. Solid, steady, purposeful strokes, one after the other, each one the same as the last, with also a movement down the blade in each stroke, the same distance of off-set each time, is almost easy with tempo. If your tempo is sure, if you let yourself really go deeply into the tempo, then amazing things can take place with the file, flatness and straightness that rival what machines produce can be had with the human machine very often.
It also makes it possible to accomplish extremely large sections of work that otherwise seem impossibly huge. The tempo brings a steady efficiency that'll help you get through a large work.
Many times, it's very much like making music with the tools. Again, drawfiling steel, that has a distinct sound, and it can say alot as you work. The tempo turns it into work that involves all the senses at once, you see it, you feel it in your hands, but you can hear it too, and it connects you to the tool, and the work, very closely. Ultimately, when the day is truly going good, you disappear into it, you get lost in the tempo, and the sound, the feel, and that's all there is, and that's when some truly amazing work can take place.
I've started to be convinced that everybody has an internal tempo, a rythym inside, that can be tuned-into. Bicylists and runners know what I'm talking about. It propels them to distances and speeds, and over obstacles that would otherwise be impossible to defeat, just by wailing away at it without order, structure, and tempo. You can perform the whole by making each moment, each beat of the tempo, individually perfect. The tempo is the framework that allows it to happen in succession. It allows the mind to be free of complicated words and thoughts about each stroke, or step, or movement, but at the same time makes each movement it's own.
Sometimes it's a shock, a suprise, when you reach the end of the task. That's how I know my tempo was a good one that day.
It's important, it's the underlying component of many of the things I do. It's important for efficiency and accuracy, and for a pace that's sustainable.
One of the standard anecdotes, in various forms, goes something like;
There are two men in the smithy, a young man, and the Old Master. Both are forging, the young man hammers away quickly, almost desperately, with a hurried pace and always an eye on keeping up with the Old Man.
The old man, brings down the hammer almost slowly, but always at the same tempo, always hard, and sure, and in place.
At the end of the day, the young man is tired, and his pile of goods is smaller than the Old Man's, and even still, some of the goods are not made as well as they could be.
He's convinced the Old Man knows some trick or secret of the method he's not sharing, and his ego makes him resentful.
The young man sees his hammering and his work as a single large element that encompasses the entire day, and measures it that way, simply by how much he's made.
The Old Man, measures each single blow, one at a time. Each strike of the hammer is a single action and the effort, and his mind, is focused on that one moment. Every blow is powerful, accurate, and complete. Every blow is efficient, and propelled by a tempo that The Old man knows, from expierience, will serve him the whole day without getting tired, without the last of his blows being less than the first. One sure, measured blow, surpasses 10 of the unmeasured ones.
And so it is with many things in the shop really. Like draw-filing the faces of a sword-blade flat, for instance. It's a huge undertaking, and depending on just how flat you want it to be, how accurate you want it to turn out, it can be a challenging technical exercise also. The file doesn't just do it's work by its-self, it has to be guided in it's task. To do accurate work with hand tools is really all about "playing the averages". To wail away with the file in one spot without an eye to the whole, just makes a depression in that one spot, and it won't relate, or blend in with, the next spot. Tempo is what can overcome that. Solid, steady, purposeful strokes, one after the other, each one the same as the last, with also a movement down the blade in each stroke, the same distance of off-set each time, is almost easy with tempo. If your tempo is sure, if you let yourself really go deeply into the tempo, then amazing things can take place with the file, flatness and straightness that rival what machines produce can be had with the human machine very often.
It also makes it possible to accomplish extremely large sections of work that otherwise seem impossibly huge. The tempo brings a steady efficiency that'll help you get through a large work.
Many times, it's very much like making music with the tools. Again, drawfiling steel, that has a distinct sound, and it can say alot as you work. The tempo turns it into work that involves all the senses at once, you see it, you feel it in your hands, but you can hear it too, and it connects you to the tool, and the work, very closely. Ultimately, when the day is truly going good, you disappear into it, you get lost in the tempo, and the sound, the feel, and that's all there is, and that's when some truly amazing work can take place.
I've started to be convinced that everybody has an internal tempo, a rythym inside, that can be tuned-into. Bicylists and runners know what I'm talking about. It propels them to distances and speeds, and over obstacles that would otherwise be impossible to defeat, just by wailing away at it without order, structure, and tempo. You can perform the whole by making each moment, each beat of the tempo, individually perfect. The tempo is the framework that allows it to happen in succession. It allows the mind to be free of complicated words and thoughts about each stroke, or step, or movement, but at the same time makes each movement it's own.
Sometimes it's a shock, a suprise, when you reach the end of the task. That's how I know my tempo was a good one that day.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
The Question
The favorite question I get from folks is still; "why do you make swords?"
And, after many years, I still don't have any "set" answer to that one, since I'm not sure I really know why myself. It just kinda happened.
It's gotten a lot more interesting to answer the last few years though. Now it's not just the swords, now I can say, "yeah, and sometimes from DIRT...". And then I can go into the whole discussion about smelting and who did what what way in antiquity, how fire has been made a tool and all the wonderous things we've done with it. Like this computer, for example. It's roots are in fire too. Like the electricity in the wires, the car you drive, the cell phone. They all have common ancestry in fire.
So that points to one of the "answers". Deep down, every smith, potter, and glass-worker I know have a bit of pyromaniac inside. There is something special about harnessing something as primal as fire and making it perform useful work for us. There's a real feeling of power that comes from that.
There's a historical interest that's definately part of it for me also. I particularly like items from Western Europe, during the so-called "dark-age", and the "Viking age". I've concentrated a lot of my re-creation work in that area pretty regularly over the last 15 years, and more. That's where my ancestry tracks to, so it's like I'm exploring my heritage to an extent. And also, simply as a craftsman, it's interesting in the extreme to explore how things must have been made in those times, what tools were used, what techniques were developed. AND how culture ties into it as well.
Then there is a really base-level attraction, especially when the re-creation work takes you to smelting and refining ore to useful material, steel. Steel from dirt. Especially when it's using original technology, building a smelter from mud essentially, making charcoal, the hours and hours of running the thing... it's a MASSIVE amount of work at times. But to see it through, to go through all the labour and time, at at the end, to have a useful tool in your hand, well, wow... I'm not sure how to explain the total kick that is. It's truly what the saying "sword from the stone" was really referring too.
Those are some of the reasons I make swords, a few of many I can think of. But in the end, I still can't really say for sure, what it is particularly. Maybe it's more accurate to say that these are some of the things I *enjoy* about making swords. But I still can't say *why*. I guess I just have to.
That'll just have to do.
And, after many years, I still don't have any "set" answer to that one, since I'm not sure I really know why myself. It just kinda happened.
It's gotten a lot more interesting to answer the last few years though. Now it's not just the swords, now I can say, "yeah, and sometimes from DIRT...". And then I can go into the whole discussion about smelting and who did what what way in antiquity, how fire has been made a tool and all the wonderous things we've done with it. Like this computer, for example. It's roots are in fire too. Like the electricity in the wires, the car you drive, the cell phone. They all have common ancestry in fire.
So that points to one of the "answers". Deep down, every smith, potter, and glass-worker I know have a bit of pyromaniac inside. There is something special about harnessing something as primal as fire and making it perform useful work for us. There's a real feeling of power that comes from that.
There's a historical interest that's definately part of it for me also. I particularly like items from Western Europe, during the so-called "dark-age", and the "Viking age". I've concentrated a lot of my re-creation work in that area pretty regularly over the last 15 years, and more. That's where my ancestry tracks to, so it's like I'm exploring my heritage to an extent. And also, simply as a craftsman, it's interesting in the extreme to explore how things must have been made in those times, what tools were used, what techniques were developed. AND how culture ties into it as well.
Then there is a really base-level attraction, especially when the re-creation work takes you to smelting and refining ore to useful material, steel. Steel from dirt. Especially when it's using original technology, building a smelter from mud essentially, making charcoal, the hours and hours of running the thing... it's a MASSIVE amount of work at times. But to see it through, to go through all the labour and time, at at the end, to have a useful tool in your hand, well, wow... I'm not sure how to explain the total kick that is. It's truly what the saying "sword from the stone" was really referring too.
Those are some of the reasons I make swords, a few of many I can think of. But in the end, I still can't really say for sure, what it is particularly. Maybe it's more accurate to say that these are some of the things I *enjoy* about making swords. But I still can't say *why*. I guess I just have to.
That'll just have to do.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
New Available Page
I thought maybe I'd give this format a shot for my available page as well, and see how that works out for awhile.
I must say I like the ease of this system, so, kudos to the Blogger folks.
Nothing on there yet, be a few days to finish up the page and some items for it, but I'll announce them here on the Journal as they come up in any case.
I must say I like the ease of this system, so, kudos to the Blogger folks.
Nothing on there yet, be a few days to finish up the page and some items for it, but I'll announce them here on the Journal as they come up in any case.
TV Sucks
I only have peasant-vision, like 5 channels altogether, not a decent cartoon on any of them this morning. I miss Bugs.
I got some handles roughed-out and on some knife blades yesterday, I think they're going to be pretty nice when they're done. More of the scandi-style stuff, which I love, they're so simple and sensible, and usable. Three of them are going to have wootz blades, which is fun... don't see that everyday on a traditional scandi.
The scandinavian/nordic style of knives appeal to me on a deep level, as I mentioned before, from a use standpoint, they have it all. But more than that, they have such a long tradition behind them as well, at least 1000 years in thier present form, and if you count development as a whole, maybe 1500 could be argued convincingly. So it appeals to the historical attraction the craft has for me. They rival any culture's development of edged tools, and surpass many, even the much over-touted Japanese. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against Japanese tools and weapons, but talk about hype... sheesh.... steel is steel man.
So I don't know what I'm going to do today yet, but I'm thinking it's time to take a few hours and do something about my miserable excuse of photography, which has turned out to be easily the hardest part of this whole gig for me. I really need to build a proper light box, once and for all, so I can get proper pictures of my stuff. I've depended on sunny days for pictures, and that works ok, but in reality, that's pretty amateurish at best, and certainly not doing myself or the work justice. The swords are always the kicker and present the same kind of space and handling issues here as they do in every other case. Damn things are just so long. So, I think I'll start with a smaller box to get the knife situation under control first, and once that appears to be sorted out, then I'll look at making something bigger for the long blades.
Wow, I'm so proud of myself, for once I'll do something in the right order...
I'm still kinda sore, but not like yesterday, so I should get back on swords this afternoon. That will depend somewhat on how much I manage to over-engineer a simple light box. I'm going to try not to do that. Yeah, right.
I got some handles roughed-out and on some knife blades yesterday, I think they're going to be pretty nice when they're done. More of the scandi-style stuff, which I love, they're so simple and sensible, and usable. Three of them are going to have wootz blades, which is fun... don't see that everyday on a traditional scandi.
The scandinavian/nordic style of knives appeal to me on a deep level, as I mentioned before, from a use standpoint, they have it all. But more than that, they have such a long tradition behind them as well, at least 1000 years in thier present form, and if you count development as a whole, maybe 1500 could be argued convincingly. So it appeals to the historical attraction the craft has for me. They rival any culture's development of edged tools, and surpass many, even the much over-touted Japanese. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against Japanese tools and weapons, but talk about hype... sheesh.... steel is steel man.
So I don't know what I'm going to do today yet, but I'm thinking it's time to take a few hours and do something about my miserable excuse of photography, which has turned out to be easily the hardest part of this whole gig for me. I really need to build a proper light box, once and for all, so I can get proper pictures of my stuff. I've depended on sunny days for pictures, and that works ok, but in reality, that's pretty amateurish at best, and certainly not doing myself or the work justice. The swords are always the kicker and present the same kind of space and handling issues here as they do in every other case. Damn things are just so long. So, I think I'll start with a smaller box to get the knife situation under control first, and once that appears to be sorted out, then I'll look at making something bigger for the long blades.
Wow, I'm so proud of myself, for once I'll do something in the right order...
I'm still kinda sore, but not like yesterday, so I should get back on swords this afternoon. That will depend somewhat on how much I manage to over-engineer a simple light box. I'm going to try not to do that. Yeah, right.
Friday, January 26, 2007
One at a time is better
I need a break from the big stuff, it's tiring.
Been working on a group of swords and it's going well, not much left to do, but I'm worn out. Lots of filing, scraping, polishing, my hands are sore. I like doing it, but the big blades really add a factor to the project that can add up when you're working on three at once.
I think today will be a knife day. I have some blades that need handles, and although I enjoy the swordwork, it's easier to get a sense of "fun" with the knives. They come together quicker and you see the results of the effort faster. Craftsman's version of instant gratification.
I've been slogging through some back-orders and it's really nice to be close to the end. I've got a few more over-lap projects, but in a month or so, I'll be able to go back to one sword at a time, and I'm really looking forward to that. I'm not unhappy with my work, when I do groups, it's more of an enjoyment issue I think.
I used to do that actually, I miss that. Have a major sword-project going, but some knives on the bench too so when it was time for a break, I was still getting stuff done, just different stuff. Work some different muscles, some different brain cells.
It was a better balance for me.
And the knives are important for another reason; they get used more. Some of the swords do, with martial artists and the like. But a lot of my knives go hunting, work in the kitchen, and exist in a working shop where another craftsman really uses them regularly. It's very cool to create a sword and someone considers it a "beautiful thing", and really appreciates the work and effort. But it's also a thrill when someone sees a knife from the standpoint of "useful thing", when they tell me it stays sharp and cuts really good, or how the handle is really comfortable, and that they really enjoy using it, that's truly a compliment, that can really make my day.
Balance is good. Good day to be a knifemaker.
Been working on a group of swords and it's going well, not much left to do, but I'm worn out. Lots of filing, scraping, polishing, my hands are sore. I like doing it, but the big blades really add a factor to the project that can add up when you're working on three at once.
I think today will be a knife day. I have some blades that need handles, and although I enjoy the swordwork, it's easier to get a sense of "fun" with the knives. They come together quicker and you see the results of the effort faster. Craftsman's version of instant gratification.
I've been slogging through some back-orders and it's really nice to be close to the end. I've got a few more over-lap projects, but in a month or so, I'll be able to go back to one sword at a time, and I'm really looking forward to that. I'm not unhappy with my work, when I do groups, it's more of an enjoyment issue I think.
I used to do that actually, I miss that. Have a major sword-project going, but some knives on the bench too so when it was time for a break, I was still getting stuff done, just different stuff. Work some different muscles, some different brain cells.
It was a better balance for me.
And the knives are important for another reason; they get used more. Some of the swords do, with martial artists and the like. But a lot of my knives go hunting, work in the kitchen, and exist in a working shop where another craftsman really uses them regularly. It's very cool to create a sword and someone considers it a "beautiful thing", and really appreciates the work and effort. But it's also a thrill when someone sees a knife from the standpoint of "useful thing", when they tell me it stays sharp and cuts really good, or how the handle is really comfortable, and that they really enjoy using it, that's truly a compliment, that can really make my day.
Balance is good. Good day to be a knifemaker.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
focus
Having a strong dose of OCD isn't all bad.
Except when it's not fed.
It's become clear that focus is perhaps the most important element with regards to what I do, and also the hardest element to retain through the day. Getting distracted from the task at hand is exceptionally easy.
I make things with my hands, and I try to make a living that way. So immediately, the pressure is on. If it's not really really good, clean and tight, symetrical, flowing, in proportion, then why would anyone want it? Even as a swordsmith, which would seem to be a fairly unique vocation, the competition is there. There is so much factory-made junk out there, with millions of dollars of marketing, and zero morality in that marketing, that it's hard to stand out.
So it's got to be really good.
I don't use the milling machines or investment cast all my parts and pieces on an assembly line, not that there is anything particularly wrong with that, but a lot of the folks doing exactly that really go out of thier way to make sure thier marketing bark implies that it's all one-off hand-crafted stuff.
My machine, is me, the human machine.
It's hard to compete when they can afford a much larger squeeky wheel.
So, I don't anymore really.
I've lately gotten into "self-isolationism", which works good for me. I'm just not at all going out of my way to worry about or watch what other companies are importing and peddling or even what other makers are making, for the most part. This is good for me, it clears out head-space that's better used for the task at hand.
And that's what a huge part of all of this is about, for me, the Human Machine. We forget about it in this age; what wonderous things this biological construction is really capable of. And that there is seemingly little limit when you really get the focus happening. Some amazing things can be done with no more than a few simple hand-tools, time, and the commitment to see it through. The Focus.
It's the focus that really makes one particular aspect flip around for craftsmen sometimes, after a time, and lots of practice, eventually you come to realize that it's the process that really matters most. The product is nothing more than what happens at the end of a process, and to really make the machine hum, it's the process that's everything. When that was pointed out to me a long time ago by one of my favorite craftsmen, it was like a 1000 w halogen going off in my head.
I think maybe that's why I so much like the term "craftsman", and really hate the term "artist".
Maybe it's because I havn't been around that much, but a lot of the "artists" I've met have thier focus entirely on the product... right from the start. Seems very superficial, and a lot of work, I think, that comes from that view is technically deficient, showing lots of vision perhaps, but very little skill, dedication to thier chosen craft.
Vision, or "the muse" as they like to call it, is fine, it's nessecary, it's wonderfull, it reflects on the hard-drive of the machine and what a wonderfull computer THAT is. No question. But I've seen SO many "sculptures", for example, that consisted of bits of scrap stuck together, with a crappy welder, with all of the spatter and ugliness of the fusing left in place to be seen. Shows no pride in the process, only a drive to create product.
Would it kill ya to push a file or a grinder around a little and make it smooth?
Hell yeah, might hurt the bottom line.
I think the world is lacking pride in it's work, as a whole.
One of the things I like the most about smithing is the immediate feedback of wandering focus.
I get hurt.
Pretty hard to ignore a second or third-degree wake-up call. Smashed finger, terrible cuts. The pain of the craft is just an exclamation point.
So lots of pressure from a lot of different angles. Maybe it's imagined, but I'm cool with that too, because it all serves to increase the focus regardless. At the bench today I'll be making every file stroke, of the hundreds I'll be doing, an individual singular act. Each one will have a rythym that belongs only to it, that adds to the whole as a part of the process. Each stroke will have a beginning, and an end, and it's own purpose, and be counted in my mind as something special, all on it's own.
A machine will never know that joy.
Except when it's not fed.
It's become clear that focus is perhaps the most important element with regards to what I do, and also the hardest element to retain through the day. Getting distracted from the task at hand is exceptionally easy.
I make things with my hands, and I try to make a living that way. So immediately, the pressure is on. If it's not really really good, clean and tight, symetrical, flowing, in proportion, then why would anyone want it? Even as a swordsmith, which would seem to be a fairly unique vocation, the competition is there. There is so much factory-made junk out there, with millions of dollars of marketing, and zero morality in that marketing, that it's hard to stand out.
So it's got to be really good.
I don't use the milling machines or investment cast all my parts and pieces on an assembly line, not that there is anything particularly wrong with that, but a lot of the folks doing exactly that really go out of thier way to make sure thier marketing bark implies that it's all one-off hand-crafted stuff.
My machine, is me, the human machine.
It's hard to compete when they can afford a much larger squeeky wheel.
So, I don't anymore really.
I've lately gotten into "self-isolationism", which works good for me. I'm just not at all going out of my way to worry about or watch what other companies are importing and peddling or even what other makers are making, for the most part. This is good for me, it clears out head-space that's better used for the task at hand.
And that's what a huge part of all of this is about, for me, the Human Machine. We forget about it in this age; what wonderous things this biological construction is really capable of. And that there is seemingly little limit when you really get the focus happening. Some amazing things can be done with no more than a few simple hand-tools, time, and the commitment to see it through. The Focus.
It's the focus that really makes one particular aspect flip around for craftsmen sometimes, after a time, and lots of practice, eventually you come to realize that it's the process that really matters most. The product is nothing more than what happens at the end of a process, and to really make the machine hum, it's the process that's everything. When that was pointed out to me a long time ago by one of my favorite craftsmen, it was like a 1000 w halogen going off in my head.
I think maybe that's why I so much like the term "craftsman", and really hate the term "artist".
Maybe it's because I havn't been around that much, but a lot of the "artists" I've met have thier focus entirely on the product... right from the start. Seems very superficial, and a lot of work, I think, that comes from that view is technically deficient, showing lots of vision perhaps, but very little skill, dedication to thier chosen craft.
Vision, or "the muse" as they like to call it, is fine, it's nessecary, it's wonderfull, it reflects on the hard-drive of the machine and what a wonderfull computer THAT is. No question. But I've seen SO many "sculptures", for example, that consisted of bits of scrap stuck together, with a crappy welder, with all of the spatter and ugliness of the fusing left in place to be seen. Shows no pride in the process, only a drive to create product.
Would it kill ya to push a file or a grinder around a little and make it smooth?
Hell yeah, might hurt the bottom line.
I think the world is lacking pride in it's work, as a whole.
One of the things I like the most about smithing is the immediate feedback of wandering focus.
I get hurt.
Pretty hard to ignore a second or third-degree wake-up call. Smashed finger, terrible cuts. The pain of the craft is just an exclamation point.
So lots of pressure from a lot of different angles. Maybe it's imagined, but I'm cool with that too, because it all serves to increase the focus regardless. At the bench today I'll be making every file stroke, of the hundreds I'll be doing, an individual singular act. Each one will have a rythym that belongs only to it, that adds to the whole as a part of the process. Each stroke will have a beginning, and an end, and it's own purpose, and be counted in my mind as something special, all on it's own.
A machine will never know that joy.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
maybe a new way
New to me, I should say.
New year, time to try something new I guess. I've been online, and making use of the net to present my craft and my work for a long time, it's been good to me, perhaps I've not been as good to it, tried a lot of different things with varied success, latest being the whole forum thing. Took me awhile to realize maybe what I was trying to do related more to the blog format than forum. Turned out to be more work and stress than I bargained for.
I think at the root of my 'net issues is the fact that it sets up a situation where I feel like I'm struggling between two completely different worlds. I'm a blacksmith, a bladesmith, I've made a deep all-encompassing study of the craft of hammer and fire for a long time, and the deeper I go, it seems like the "further back" I travel.
Then, at the same time, I've committed myself to using the internet, and computers, digital cameras, all that stuff, as the medium that I prefer to use to look after the selling side of things.
Man, does it EVER clash sometimes.
The forum was really what brought it all out as a problem. I ended up spending a lot of time as administrator, dealing with the spammers and perverts, problems with the script, emails, emails, emails, server crash, bandwidth, approving accounts, playing moderator, when much of the time it was likely me who should have been moderated.
Basically, playing at computer guy, ( and not very well), and NOT being the craftsman.
I wanted to do a sort-of journal thing for a long time, and did that to some degree on the forum, but it wasn't exactly right. Hard to explain. I think posting thoughts, but then coming back to it to answer questions, or having things go off on a tangent from the original thought, really threw me off more than I expected it would.
And again, drew me away from my little world of fire and hammers and physical effort and more towards the electronic existance, which, as it turns out, I only have a limited amount of spirit for.
I love the internet, and all that it can be, for a craftsman like myself. But it's easy to jump into things that go places you never expected.
Maybe this will be like that too?
I'll try it anyway... what could it hurt...?
( I know I've said THAT before too...)
So I announced today that the forum would be shutting down the end of the month.
I have a lot of mixed feelings right now about that. I know it's right for me at this point, to move on to the next evolution of my trip.
But, wierd thing about this internet deal is that you CAN make a whole lot of friends, and the folks on my forum, often feel like some kind of virtual family.
It's been an awesome group of folks. I wonder if I'm letting them down.
I hope they don't feel that way.
Well, full speed ahead, I'll give this a try and see where it goes.
New year, time to try something new I guess. I've been online, and making use of the net to present my craft and my work for a long time, it's been good to me, perhaps I've not been as good to it, tried a lot of different things with varied success, latest being the whole forum thing. Took me awhile to realize maybe what I was trying to do related more to the blog format than forum. Turned out to be more work and stress than I bargained for.
I think at the root of my 'net issues is the fact that it sets up a situation where I feel like I'm struggling between two completely different worlds. I'm a blacksmith, a bladesmith, I've made a deep all-encompassing study of the craft of hammer and fire for a long time, and the deeper I go, it seems like the "further back" I travel.
Then, at the same time, I've committed myself to using the internet, and computers, digital cameras, all that stuff, as the medium that I prefer to use to look after the selling side of things.
Man, does it EVER clash sometimes.
The forum was really what brought it all out as a problem. I ended up spending a lot of time as administrator, dealing with the spammers and perverts, problems with the script, emails, emails, emails, server crash, bandwidth, approving accounts, playing moderator, when much of the time it was likely me who should have been moderated.
Basically, playing at computer guy, ( and not very well), and NOT being the craftsman.
I wanted to do a sort-of journal thing for a long time, and did that to some degree on the forum, but it wasn't exactly right. Hard to explain. I think posting thoughts, but then coming back to it to answer questions, or having things go off on a tangent from the original thought, really threw me off more than I expected it would.
And again, drew me away from my little world of fire and hammers and physical effort and more towards the electronic existance, which, as it turns out, I only have a limited amount of spirit for.
I love the internet, and all that it can be, for a craftsman like myself. But it's easy to jump into things that go places you never expected.
Maybe this will be like that too?
I'll try it anyway... what could it hurt...?
( I know I've said THAT before too...)
So I announced today that the forum would be shutting down the end of the month.
I have a lot of mixed feelings right now about that. I know it's right for me at this point, to move on to the next evolution of my trip.
But, wierd thing about this internet deal is that you CAN make a whole lot of friends, and the folks on my forum, often feel like some kind of virtual family.
It's been an awesome group of folks. I wonder if I'm letting them down.
I hope they don't feel that way.
Well, full speed ahead, I'll give this a try and see where it goes.
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