Knifemaking: presence, vulnerability, and the Forester

“Take the time to know
How alone you are in this world
Just to find
Death is on your mind
As you stand still, you realize where you are
In her world
Aged and bright
My moon after the tide”

Craft Spells- Komorebi

(you can read about the initial inspiration for the Forester here)

I love the forest.  I’m fortunate to live in a larger city that is in close proximity to the woods.  I have good friends who live on farms in rural wooded areas.  I occasionally house-sit for one of my good friends who lives out in the sticks and I will tell you that as a city person there isn’t anything much better than being able to wake up to a place like this:

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I think what makes the forest such a special place these days is that it gently brings you into the moment.  Not all at once, and not all of the time.  Sometimes I go into the woods and all I can think about is how I am going to get my health insurance paid or why I didn’t wash my dishes before I came.  Both of these are valid concerns and also a prime example of not being with yourself, or being present- how am I supposed to experience the here and now when I am consumed with shit that will be dealt with later?  It’s a thing: once you start noticing that you aren’t being present with yourself you can start to work on it.

When the presence does happen it’s quite wonderful.  It’s as if you can see what you are doing and where you are going without any judgement.  I try to capture those moments.  There’s a vulnerability in the forest because you are so open.  Everything is.  And it’s empowering and humbling.  There is no posturing and no bravado.  You can feel your place in things and it feels so safe.  At least for me.  These are the places where you can really feel your being: There’s a word in Japanese called komorebi.  Literally translated it means “sunshine filtering through the trees”.  This page explains komorebi a bit better than my understanding of the depth of it permits me.  What I do know is that it conveys a sense of wonder at something that would be there whether we are present to observe it or not.  It just is.  I dig that.

The seasons of the woods: summer…
IMG_1849 And autumn when the leaves fall:IMG_1591And winter:IMG_1615And spring: IMG_1788

This is where the Forester comes in.  Something that that looks like it just stepped out of the woods, without pretension or affectation.  Something to help you be present with yourself and to find the power and connectedness in being vulnerable.


I found a green cutting board that I thought would be interesting to work with.  I liked the idea of being able to take something green with me when I couldn’t get to the woods.

…and I hated it.  I though it was ugly and it wouldn’t sand up or polish the way I wanted it to.  So I cut it off and put an oak handle on instead.

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She is made with O1 tool steel, white Oak handle scales, and brass hardware.  She was bought by one of my good friend’s father, who is a bit of a Forester himself.

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May wherever you are be where you are supposed to be.  This is the lesson of the Forester.

Knifemaking: the Lioness, revisited

“The stuff we make don’t go bad”

“The ugly dog barks the longest”

Tray Eppes: potter, musician, fully present citizen of the Universe

(you can find the initial crafting of the Lioness here)

So a number of years ago one of my best friends asked me if I wanted to play a gig with him and his godfather.  It was a Christmas parade in a small town about two hours away.  We were both in music school and played near any gig we could get.  Neither of had cars at the time and a big ass Dodge truck piloted by a gentleman with a large beard pulled up.  This was Tray.  On the way we stopped at a jazz club, had a few cold ones, and heard some badass tunes.  We got to Tray’s farm at around 2am and he showed me his guitar rig (at full blast).  I went to sleep to the sound of coyotes howling.  I got up and Tray’s wife had made us smoked venison with Hollandaise sauce on a lightly toasted English muffin.  We drove to town and played brass band versions of Christmas songs and it was a blast.

We played those parades for the next couple of years.  We spent a New Years out there.  As I recall we drank gin and sat in the outdoor hot tub in front of a fire the size of Rhode Island.  I make sure to keep in touch with Tray and his wife.

A couple months ago I was standing in the middle of a field working security for a country music concert, alone with my thoughts due to the fact that most of the audience was in the beer tent and there wasn’t much securing to do.  In those moments I often find myself thinking about places I’d rather be and in this case I would have rather been, well, almost anywhere else.  I decided I would call Tray and see how he made a living making the things he makes: killer pottery.

He told me about selling pottery to the Amish.  The Amish don’t have any possessions that are purely decorative. If there are pictures on the wall, it is most likely a Bible verse written in a modest calligraphy.  Likewise, nothing is frivolously decorated.  This particular group, Tray was telling me, used white dishes.  Tray also told me that white pottery is a bit more labor intensive than his normal work and the Amish are the only ones who ask for it.  So he can make a large batch of it and have it on hand and not have to fool with it for awhile.  He was explaining to the Amish man he can make it and sell it years later.

“Ahh”, said the Amish man.  “Not like spoilt cow’s milk.”

This was when he told me the stuff we make doesn’t spoil.  You can go back and rework things that you aren’t happy with.  I’ve had a few proverbial ugly dogs barking at me and recently I’ve been reworking those.   And it’s not limited to just pottery, or knives, or music…just because you were one way yesterday doesn’t mean that’s how you have to be today.

Tray also ordered a knife and a sheath.  I made him this:

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For the Lioness I found the blade to be too thick.  I went and ground down the bevel, which in turn improved the balance of the blade.  I wasn’t happy with the finish so I took care of that as well.  All of this came from a gentle place.  Nothing is going to spoil.

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O1 tool steel, Cherrywood handle, and brass hardware

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The nice thing about refinishing a wooden handle (or wooden anything) is that the grain is so much more prominent due to the permeation of the finishing oil.  The grain pops much more grandly than it did the first time around.  I see it as a little gift for going back and trying to make it better.

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I also smoothed and polished up the tang.

Tray and a much younger me

Tray and a much younger me

Check out Tray’s site at here and drop him a line

Knifemaking: honor, integrity, and the Hound

Both sides of my family were landless sharecroppers and mountain people from as far back as I can remember…What did I receive from this lineage?  Things I believe to be very valuable: a good raw intellect and a good tough body…A sense of honor that results in a touchiness common to our people…When the only thing you own is your sense of personal honor, you tend to protect it at all costs.

Eric L. Haney, Inside Delta Force

This blade was initially a commission from another very dear friend of mine.  He asked for a knife that was based in a sort of old-world honor.  A sort of honor that is maybe not seen so much today, at least not on the surface of things.  Something that may get lost in performance reports and email threads.  Something that isn’t tied to how much money you do or do not make, what deity you do or do not pray to, what color your skin may or may not be, and completely independent of whatever gender with which you happen to identify.  A sort of goodness that comes from having a place in this world, of knowing deep within your being that you deserve to be here and that no one can take that away from you.  He asked that it be called the Hound and I got to work.

There are times in my life when I have felt empty and hollow, like something was missing.  I tried filling this with all sorts of things- material things, a busy schedule, pharmaceuticals, and overindulgences of food and drink.  What was actually missing at those times was a personal bearing.  In more difficult times I had traded my honor for things that were fleeting, for a sense of security, and for a feeling of belonging.  When you have something to ground yourself in and can carry yourself in esteem, the aforementioned things will find their way to you, though at times it may feel like you are a thousand miles away from any of them.  No one gives this feeling to you.  Some people have this from an early age, others have to find it, and still others go through hell and many trials by fire to figure out what it is for them.  Some people have been beaten down so far that they aren’t aware that it even exists- but still it can be theirs.

When you act and speak from this place it brings an integrity and truth to the things you do.  A resonance that permeates everything- like an orchestra, where a balance of intonation, volume, harmony, and depth of emotion makes a gorgeous sonic mass.  There may be chaos all around you but within you everything moves in synch, just like the bows of a symphony orchestra.

I “finished” this blade some months ago and was never quite happy with it.  I’ve since made a blade of the same bearing for my friend, the Hound Mark II (here is a picture).  I didn’t find the initial bevel work on this knife to be satisfactory and I didn’t come to this conclusion till after I had hardened the steel.  One has to be careful grinding on hardened steel: if it gets too hot the steel loses it’s temper.  So with a cup of ice water I took the bevel to where I was happy with it.

It’s important to not give away our honor, as it can be the thing that gets us through when there may not be anything else.  As it follows, I added a sturdy grip on the Hound.  I wanted it to melt into the hand and hold fast for times when holding anything may be challenging.  
  
Profiled, ground, and sanded  After hardening…
During tempering…    Roughing in contours…Cherrywood for balance….
Mostly sanded…  The Hound
  
  
  
  

The Hound was made from O1 tool steel with a Cherrywood handle and brass rivets.  Hold to your honor.

If you find you would like to purchase one of my blades or have me craft one for you, email me or check out my Etsy store.   It may end up on this blog…

Knifemaking: gentleness, boundaries, and the Maiden

“I was only fifteen years old and full of fire
I was a half a pound of bacon and an egg on the side
She got all the good looks, and I got all the war
She was everything I asked for, and a little more”

Francis Dunnery, Give Up and Let it Go (The Gulley Flats Boys)

This blade was a commission from a very good friend of mine.  I’ve known him and his wife for quite a few years, worked for his company, and spent much time with his family.  He lives in Maidens, Virginia, so coming up with an idea for this blade sort of took care of itself.

The inspiration for the Maiden comes from most all of the women I am close to.  Elegant, beautiful, strong, full of love, and most definitely not having any of your shit.  Or put another way, immaculately clothed but with a sword hidden beneath beneath their cloak.  Or sun dress.  Or whatever houndstooth scarf or coat is in season.  You get the idea.

No man is an island.  Sometimes it’s really healthy to have someone to tell you “hey, see that stupid thing you’re about to do?  Maybe think twice about that- you don’t need to impress anyone.” Or,

“Hey, it’s time to stand on your own feet.  No, I’m not going to carry you through this.  Don’t worry, you’ve got this.”  Or even,

“Whether you fail or succeed, I love you.”

These are strong statements but they are held by a gentleness that we don’t often give ourselves, or at least I don’t.  I’ve been known to on occasion, when left to my own devices, done that stupid thing to impress someone insignificant and not stood on my own feet and felt like love was conditional on whether I failed or succeeded.  Because whether we like it or not, at some point or another we all have moments of neediness and insecurity, self-doubt and self-sabotage, and the story-hour from hell where we ruminate on our screw-ups.  As social creatures it’s important to hear these things from others close to us.  This doesn’t necessarily mean there are dependency issues at play.  It means that we are human.  And whether we are aware of it or not, we are often giving the same support to those who help support us.

To me, these statements also represent strong boundaries- saying what is felt without expectation or condition.  Without (or in spite of) fear of a negative reaction.  Spoken not to coerce or manipulate an outcome but to help us to be ourselves.

That is the lesson of the Maiden- an elegant tool that is close in good times and the rougher times, beautifully dressed with no fucks to give.  I’ll drink to that….

I designed four of these lovely ladies and had my friend pick which on he liked best.  These three didn’t quite make the cut and that’s ok.  I went with a drop point blade- the right balance of tip strength, belly, and piercing ability.  Good for farm work.

  finish sanding

The Maiden: 1095 spring steel with an acid etch, Curly Maple handle, and brass hardware.

  

I also made her a sheath.  Wet formed for a snug fit.


I actually made two of these- in case I screwed up the finish on the Curly Maple.  This is the first one, with a satin finish.

Knifemaking: not taking things personally and the Persuader

“A true warrior can only serve others, not himself…When you become a mercenary, you’re just a bully with a gun.”

Evan Wright, Generation Kill

In the last semester or so of college I got a job building stages for a small production company.  When I say small, it was one gentleman who kept everything in his garage and had a box truck older than I was with no air conditioning.  Everything was rough and tumble.  Most of the jobs were second-rate: fashion shows at dilapidated event halls, seedy parties, Cinco de Mayo celebrations, weddings out in the boondocks, and community events in some of the rougher parts of town (for these I was told to carry a ‘stunt wallet’- a cheap velcro wallet with nothing but my ID and 5 or 6 bucks in it, in case we got mugged)  The biggest job he had was once a year at a county fair.  We would build a large stage, maybe 60ft by 30ft.  Then we set up 40ft by 20ft event tent on top of it.  The headlining act was an Elvis impersonator from North Carolina and for a county fair he could really draw the crowds.

These particular tents are a bit tricky.  They require at least four fit people to set up.  They are the sort of contraptions where there is a one right way to set it up and a thousand stupid ways to set it up.  There’s no in between.  There are several dozen aluminum poles ranging from 8 to 20ft.  They connect to form the frame through a series of elbow joints secured in place with cotter pins.  After you put the frame together, you ‘skin’ it with a weather treated canvas.  It’s all heavy as shit.

Invariably when you are putting the frame together some of the cotter pins won’t go in because the rivet holes in the poles won’t line up with elbow joints, usually due to uneven ground.  This was to be expected.  On these occasions we would bring out the Persuader.

The Persuader was an aptly-named baby sledge hammer for helping those cotter pins to go through the holes.  We weren’t trying to beat anything into submission or make anything do something it wasn’t meant to do.  There was no intimidation, no malice, nothing like that.  Sometimes things don’t quite go together as they were designed and in those instances they might need a bit of persuasion…of the forceful variety.

I find this when I get to the end of a project where there is something I’ve built and it’s almost finished but something isn’t quite going together as I had planned.  Do I start over?  Do I give up?  What usually happens is I percolate a cranky funk and try to wish it into submission.  Alas, wishing does not make it so….

This is where the lesson of the Persuader comes in.  The idea of helping something to do what it does.  Of taking action, manifesting intention, of letting go of the idea that things have to be perfect.  Sometimes I find myself so wrapped up in a project that when something doesn’t work I take it personally.  When that happens the project becomes about me instead of the idea I am trying to honor and serve.  When the cotter pins of Life won’t go through the rivet holes for which they were designed…give them a tap with the Persuader.  Not out of anger or frustration, but love taps.

It is from this place that I designed the Persuader blade.  Something you can pull out when you know where you want to end up but have challenges in your way.  When frustrations and doubts may close your heart.  When the goddamn cotter pin won’t go through the stupid rivet hole and the Elvis impersonator won’t have his tent and the sun melts his pomade and he can’t sing….right, deep breaths…everything is there, it just needs a little persuasion.

This blade started with a bar of 1095 spring steel.  I wanted something utilitarian, yet elegant.  For maximum blade strength and cutting ability I ground a sabre grind on the cutting edge.  For extra cutting utility I made a chisel grind on the top of the blade.

  Sabre grinds are difficult to do well.  I used my cheap little Chinese belt grinder as much as I could and then I evened it out on my filing jig.

  After heat treat and tempering….After lots of cleaning up and finishing work…

  
Some ornamental filework..,

  brass spacers and Sapele Mahogany
    Chisel grind up front…

 When it gets tough, go ahead and get frustrated and take it personally.  When you’re through with that, grab the Persuader.

  …now to clean all of this up…

Knifemaking: embracing your journey and the Spark

Watch my back and light my way 
Watch over all of those born St. Christopher’s Day”

James Taylor- “My Traveling Star”

St. Christopher is known to be the patron saint of travelers.  There isn’t a whole lot outside of speculation on who he really was.  “The Passion of St. Christopher”, found in a manuscript called the Nowell Codex (most famous for containing Beowulf) speaks of how he is put to death while trying to convert the heathen king Dagnus to Christianity.  This may be based on the 6th century Greek legend of Offerus, who helped travelers cross a river with strong currents.  The name “Christopher” is of Greek origin and means Christ-bearer.

In 1969 there was a bit of reform to the Roman Calendar and St. Christopher’s Day didn’t make the cut.  The lack of unsubstantiated origins of St. Christopher, though not explicitly stated as the reason for the removal, didn’t help his cause.  On top of that he is not a formally canonized saint.  My Catholic friends may have something different to say and that’s cool.  I’m just an observer.

None of this detracts from the spiritual impact, or that we are looked after and cared for in our travels.

(I read quite a few journals, articles, and blogs.  I put links to the most significant ones at the end of this)

offero

“Saint Christopher”- Titian Vicilli

I have a chef friend, a very gentle man and kind man.  Under that cloak is a no-bullshit attitude that originates from growing up in Brooklyn in the late 1960’s.  He always told me that when travels are tough you should always pat yourself on the back and keep moving.  Sometimes the currents will pull you off your center and you need help.

I started this little knife quite a few months ago.  I was in a place where I felt my fire had gone out.  Travels were tough.  I wasn’t sure where I was going and I didn’t like where I had been.

Even though at that particular moment I couldn’t maintain a roaring fire of my being, I could at least carry a candle, a small flame, till I could get my fire going again.  So I made one.  Something to give me a bit of light, warmth, and comfort.  Something to watch over me when I was having a tough time watching over myself.  The blank for this knife sat on my bench for a long time.  I finished it a couple days ago.  My fire is stronger.  I like where I’m going and I’m not ashamed of where I’ve been.

The lesson here is to not forget where you came from and to not lose sight of where you are going.  Remember the brutal parts especially because those are the most sacred.


  
  

The Spark.  High-carbon steel, cherry handle and brass hardware

  

Wishing you the safest of travels

Anglo-Saxon Poetry: Saint Christopher

10 Beloved Saints The Church Just Made Up

A Catholic Citizen in America

Did the Church declare that St. Christopher is a myth?

Knifemaking: expansion within limitations and the Operator

“When forced to work within a strict framework the imagination is taxed to its utmost and will produce its richest results.  Given total freedom the work is likely to sprawl.”

T.S. Eliot

I’ve found there are two types of people in the world: the Administrator and the Operator.  The Dispatcher and the Dispatched.  No person is completely one of the other.  Some people intermingle beautifully in both worlds.  Some people are better at delivering orders and others are better at executing them but no one is completely one or the other.

I find myself more in the realm of the Operator.  What needs to be done?  When does it need to be done?  Within these sorts of parameters I find that I laugh a bit easier, creativity is much more present, ideas flow better, and there is a general ease about me that might not be there if I am left totally to my own devices.  Within these sorts of parameters I am most productive.

Expansion within limitations.  We are all limited at some capacity.  Miles Davis was limited by the physical limitations of the trumpet, Mary Lou Retton by gravity, and Socrates by the political constraints of his time.  These limitations didn’t mean that they weren’t going to reach like hell for what they believed in.  No work is totally free because we are all coming from somewhere.  And it’s not about consciously limiting yourself or your potential; it’s about pushing through to find how far you can go with your craft before you hit a barrier that prevents you from going any further.  And honestly I don’t think there are many, if any, people who have hit that point.  The rub is getting through the limitations we put on ourselves.  Sometimes they sound like this:

“I’m not allowed to be this good”

“If I’m this good it might offend someone who has worked harder than I have”

“I don’t deserve to be this good”

“It’s too much work to be this good”

Those are unhealthy limitations.  Healthy limitations push us.  Money constraints, time constraints, resources, naysayers, things of that nature.  Nothing is totally free and this is a very beautiful thing: we are all coming from somewhere.  We have notions, perspectives, opinions, and options.  We all work within mediums.  Even accountants manage to be creative within what I consider to be a dry and sterile set of parameters.  Accountants might disagree and that is part of what makes the world go round.

This is how things get done and was the inspiration for the Operator.

The lesson of the Operator is to do your tasks beautifully and fully, to the best of your abilities, and within whatever parameters have been set for you or that you have set for yourself.  Whatever those tasks may be.

I felt I was limiting myself and wanted to use a different steel.  1095 steel is a tried and true material for knives and many other things.  Lawn mower blades, files, coil springs for suspension systems, and many other things.  It’s easy to work with, hardens up beautifully, and takes a razor’s edge.  It’s super tough.  And cheap.  I like all of these parameters…

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I ground this freehand on my cheap little belt grinder.  It’s a process. IMG_2289Here’s where I make the handle material.  I used fabric, fiberglass resin, pressure, time, and patience.  You can buy the stuff commercially (it’s primarily used in industrial electrical insulation practices) but it’s a lot more exciting to make your own.  I’ve done this several times and I’m never entirely sure if it will turn out as expected…This is a quick and interesting read on how this stuff works and why it’s ultimately great for knife handles. IMG_2291I used two of my favorite shirts- shirts I had worn up and down the East Coast and had adventures in.  It was time to retire them and this was a good way to honor their Operator spirit…
IMG_2292the raw material…IMG_2294 cut to shape…IMG_2296

 
I probably spent three hours sanding the stuff…  Sanding is finished.  He goes into phosphoric acid.  This etches the surfaces of the steel and helps protect against rust.  It also makes the blade non-reflective, for those who may wish to operate clandestinely…I wish the blue material would have been more prominent but it turned out wonderfully nonetheless.  

Work within whatever parameters you may have but don’t limit yourself.  The Operator in action:

Knifemaking: softening, sturdiness, and the Finn

“”Fire will not burn you once it has
made your acquaintance,
will not abuse its kin.
When you come to fire’s dwellings,
to the bright one’s barricade,
there you will become beautiful,
rise up to be magnificent
as men’s fine swords.””

-Rune IX, The Kalevala

I based this blade loosely on the puukko, the traditional knife of Finland.  Carried for centuries by outdoorsman, this simple and unassuming knife has been the backbone of many livelihoods forged in a harsh enviroment.  It is characterized by a blade with a deeply curved edge and straight spine.  In order for the puuko to be authentic, it must be made in Scandinavia.  The handles are traditionally made of Curly Birch and the blade is made with Finnish Ovako 100Cr6 steel- although other materials are most certainly used.

 There is a fantastic Finnish knife blog called Nordiska Knivar.  They speak a lot more on the matter.  These dudes love their puukkos….

I had an old Nicholson file that I wanted to craft a blade from.  There are several sources that say they are made of either 1095 or W1 steel.  Both of these will make a good blade.  I had to soften it first- otherwise it would just eat through all my cutting discs, sanding belts, and ruin my other files.  To do that I let it sit in hot coals for several hours, letting it glow red and then cool slowly…

IMG_1960The reason we soften things is that they become easier to work with.  A set of knowing hands can work soft clay into something beautiful.  Mistakes (and there are always mistakes) are easier to fix in this way.  In this place it’s easier to be free, to let go and go for it.  Just as it’s very difficult to work with clay that has been fired in a kiln, metal that has been hardened, or paint that has cured, it can be difficult to be with ourselves in a hardened state.   Softening gives a chance to freak out at all the work we have to do, to look at things objectively, to make a plan, and to deviate from that plan as we sometimes have to do.  Softening gives us space to work, to breathe and to live.

 And then sometimes things warp in the softening process.  This is ok.  In this instance I just heated it back up and hammered it straight, as we do…. I came up with this:  a nod to Scandinavian sensibilities and a hidden tang, something I haven’t done before.
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There she is…
IMG_2198 I put a saber grind on this blade.  In this grind the bevel starts about midway through the width of the blade so that the spine retains full thickness.  It also left the remains of the file.  It’s important to remember where you came from.IMG_2199Ready to hardened and tempered again:
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Handle fittings- mesquite and steel.

IMG_2203 After sanding, filing, hammering, and swearing…he’s in.IMG_2205

IMG_2206Almost there…IMG_2210

The Finn

He is sturdy, beautiful, and capable.  It takes some time but the work we do in our softening does not go unrewarded.

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The lesson here is to not be afraid to soften, to not worry about how long it will all take, and to definitely not compare yourself to where others are in all of this.  There is ample time to jump in the forge and find our sturdiness.

Knifemaking: balance, fruition, and the Lioness

Dance with a girl three times, and if you like the light of her eye and the tone of voice with which she, breathless, answers your little questions about horseflesh and music about affairs masculine and feminine, then take the leap in the dark.

Anthony Trollope, Orley Farm

I had a dream where I met my feminine identity.

I was in a busy open air train station with one of my best friends.  It was busy and it must have been cold because everyone was bundled up.  From almost nowhere came a woman, small, but with hair the color of autumn and a lot of fire to her.  She wore a loose fitting white Henley t-shirt, weathered jeans that were rolled up to mid-shin, and walked barefoot.  There was a lion cub walking by her side.  She also wore a long knife on her hip.

We didn’t speak but there was something very familiar about her.  She was exquisitely beautiful but I didn’t desire her- I knew this being was a part of me.  She paused for a moment, long enough for the lion cub to nuzzle my leg.  Then they were both gone.

In the weeks leading up to this I had been reading a lot about women.  The way many of them flow with emotions, and are incredibly adaptable to a variety of things the world deals them.  I found this lady who does workshops for women, helping them to appreciate men.  Her name is Alison Armstrong and her website is here.  She has a lot of podcasts and in listening to her explain men to women (warning: she knows all of our secrets), she revealed many things about the fairer sex.  Definitely worth checking out.

I think a lot of tension that comes from men’s interactions with women is that there is an expectation for them to complete something in us.  What we don’t realize is that all those things we are looking for in women are already inside us- they just get buried.  Society and culture tells us that men have to be this thing, stoic and unfeeling, and if you’re anything other than that you are less than.  The Bible says women are to be quiet and subservient.  There are a slew of women’s magazine articles with explicit instructions on how to make him love you more.  Conversely there is a shitload of literature written for men on how to keep her by your side, how your six-pack abs will fix your love life and how to resolve your relationship woes in six painless steps.

To me this is total bullshit.  We can’t find balance with another person till we find balance in ourselves.  You are already complete, there is balance within you and you need no one to fill a place in you which you perceive to be empty.  In the same way, it is not your responsibility to fill someone else’s emptiness, regardless of what society, modern media or ancient texts try to tell you.  Balance yourself and everything else will compliment you.

Once things come into balance, fruition can occur.  Seeds need the proper balance of temperature, moisture, and soil composition to germinate.  A storm needs the proper meteorological conditions to develop into a force of nature.  From this place of stability things can blossom outward.  The possibilities are endless.

To the autumn-haired lady that lives somewhere inside of me: thank you for the lessons.  This blade honors those lessons.

She has a gentle recurve on the blade- this helps to keep the knife edge from wandering too far when slicing through large volumes of material.

So here we are- fierce curves that betray a keen edge…

After heat treat…   She is properly tempered- the blue near the spine of the blade means there is some flex and bend while the grey color near the cutting edge is hard and edgeworthy.  Too much of one or the other and the blade will be brittle and prone to shattering, or won’t be hard enough to hold an edge.  Proper balance is key…

I chose Cherrywood for the handle of the Lioness.  In Celtic lore, Cherry possesses both masculine and feminine properties. 

      This is the blade that the autumn-haired woman carried.  Gentle but strong, beautiful but functional, simple but so much depth…            The way to fruition is to find a balance of the things within you.  Don’t worry, it’s all there.  Just have a peak around…this is the lesson of the Lioness

lionandlady

Knifemaking: The Precedent Epilogue

“…feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This very moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.”

―Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart

(you can find the initial crafting and thoughts on the Precedent here)

This was the first real knife I started working on.  I put it aside for a long time.  I had a tough time heat treating it and kept avoiding finishing it.  I’ve been rolling and moving and was at first hesitant to look back on this knife because it was so raw.

I think there’s a hesitation to look back because somehow I fear that I will fall back into those things, or worse, see that I haven’t really moved forward.  I see lots of mistakes and lots of flaws.  There is the fear that things that once were can somehow bleed into what is now.  That the cycle just continues.  I’ve found the opposite is true- that knowing what pain and loss feel like help us to grow.  We remember what it’s like to feel joy and peace.  And while there is the realization that we will most definitely feel pain and loss again, there is the little light that reminds us we’ll feel joy and peace again as well.

All of this comes from the fear.  What a powerful teacher that is.

Fear is there to keep us safe, in the same way that our mind thinks many thoughts and is always requiring input and judging our surroundings to keep us from harm.  So I find that I don’t do things because of the fear of putting myself in perceived danger’s way.  Sometimes there is a fear of not dealing with my shit because I may feel that it is too much and this will somehow put me in an unsafe place.  Then come the distractions to divert the overthinking mind from dealing with perceived danger that is usually not so dangerous in the first place.  Look, something shiny….

Shiny things may manifest themselves as emotional unavailability, codependency, working way too much, not working enough, or a myriad of overindulgences that we interpret as something that can save us.  We tell ourselves there isn’t enough time, ask ourselves what good could come of it all, and other things to devalue ourselves.  All to try to protect ourselves.

Anyway…at some point it’s best to put the shiny things aside and deal with your shit.

As you look inside at past transgressions and flaws it’s sometimes easy to overlook the beauty and power imbued in those things.  The little signatures of being human and the wonderful nuanced lessons that comes with that.  Sometimes I have to take a pause to give myself enough space to see that.  This is the ultimate lesson of the Precedent.

I tried maybe four or five times to harden this knife.  It was a frustrating process.  Finally I got it.  I was working with a forgiving steel.  Forgiveness is a powerful thing….  Those spots are where the blade got too hot during previous hardening attempts and caused a bit of decarburization.  It is still very much functional.  I sanded these bits off later.

Originally when I started on this blade I wanted to craft something that would cut through fear.  For the handle I thought it fitting to use some of my grandmother’s old maple cutting board.  It had split in half when I used it at a tailgating party in the snow and ice.  I use the other half in my kitchen.  I love this board.

I usually do a satin finish on the knife (or attempt one anyway).  In keeping with the rawness that fear can often have I used a coarse finish sanding of 120 grit paper instead of the normal 600 and buffing.

I always want to make something functional as well as beautiful.  I find this to be both.

Maple is notoriously hard to stain.  I used Tung oil to bring out the grain.

Deep breaths…and lean into the fear.  It’s actually all ok.