Satisfaction from Learning

So yesterday was what I thought would be the biggest challenge. I tuned the flute. It really wasn't as hard as I expected. In a way, I cheated. I have seven other flutes. I took every measurement I could think of then averaged the figures. Turns out that's not a bad way to go. My numbers worked pretty well. The holes all fell within a tolerance where I could adjust them to the pitch that was correct. Except one. It was too large to start. That's not a good thing. However, it's not too terribly far out and this isn't going to be a performance flute anyway. It's my first attempt. It has some issues.

Fortunately, I've reached an age where I can learn from issues. To be honest, I as surprised the thing made a sound at all. The Sound Chamber is a strange shape, which I should have fixed. Even with that, it makes a flute sound. It doesn't have much volume, partly because of the reduced size of the Sound Chamber. I had to use a fetish from another flute because I couldn't get the one I made to work worth squat. Ok, so I move on to either another way of making the one I want, or make the Flue Channel a different way. I haven't decided yet.

Overall, I am satisfied with the experience. I am still challenged and I still have a healthy respect for the power tools. Which probably explains why I'm so sore today. I spent several hours in the garage drilling holes, making adjustments, shaping the outer tube and generally fretting. Again, truly a learning experience. I can now put down on paper the steps that I will follow to make the next one, increasing my efficiency. I know that doesn't sound very spiritually oriented, but I don't have the workshop of my dreams. I have to move a couple of my tools onto and off of the workbench. So only moving them once is in my best interest, and keeping myself undamaged is one way for me to honor Creator and Mother Earth. After all, I owe my existence to them.

Sitting in the house today nursing my aches also meant that I was not in the garage when our postal carrier arrived. A package arrived today from New Hampshire. Bob WhiteBear is as close to a spiritual brother as I will ever find. I'm sure of this. He and I understand each other. We see things the same way. We especially see flutes the same. What comes out of a flute is an expression of Spirit and feeling and sharing. I met Bob at the Trudeau Center Powwow in Warwick, Rhode Island four years ago. (I think. Time does tend to run together these days.) During that encounter, I felt something special about the man on the other side of the table. He makes flute. He makes hand drums. When I expressed an interest in the flutes, he suggested the Amon Olorin PF. Big fancy sounding name for a flute made of PVC. It's special in that it's actually two flute in one. It consists of a mouthpiece and interchangeable sound chambers. I bought it. I also bought a hand drum made with elk hide. I was hooked.

That plastic pipe flute has traveled. In the last eight years, I've been almost all over the world. That particular flute went with me to Madrid, Spain. I drove north to what I believe was a ski resort, got the flute out and played in the woods. I have since carried other flutes to other parts of the world. Back in Rhode Island, we would attend as many powwows as we could. We would often encounter Bob and his booth. He and I would spend quite a bit of time chatting, whenever there wasn't a customer for him to attend. This is how we developed the bond we have. About three years ago, Bob brought a flute that was made of a beautiful striped pale wood. Most striking was the ebony fetish atop the flue. I commissioned a flute made exactly the reverse. I wanted the flute body to be ebony. The result is one of the most striking pieces of wood. It was also quite a challenge for Bob because ebony is a seriously hard wood. That means it is difficult to work in the kind of detail required by a flute.

Everybody that sees that flute marvels. Well, two years ago this past weekend I challenged him again. I wanted a WhiteBear drone. Bob has started woodburning the foot of his flutes, so I asked for a Laughing Bear. I also wanted individual fetishes for the two sides. Because I know Bob and love him as a brother, I know he agonized over this flute. It had to be perfect. I understand that all too well. He called last Saturday and said it would ship shortly. He was having trouble with the Laughing Bear so he asked an artist friend to design one. He was having difficulty with the bear fetishes and asked another artisan for help. The result finally came to his liking. He had told me in the past that he had scrapped the project three times because it wasn't right.

It arrived today. That postal carrier needed my autograph (signature) for the package. Had I been in the garage working on my next one, I would have missed her. I honestly do not have the words to express my gratitude to my brother. Sure, I paid for the flute and waited two years for it. That's irrelevant. There is a part of my brother deeply entrenched in wood. His soul, his prayers, his attitude, they're all there. I can feel them. When I play it, and I have even though it's almost too beautiful to touch, I can feel him sitting next to me, smiling.

When I finish this and post it, I'll send the pictures to Flickr and they'll appear in the stream. I tried very hard to capture what this flute means to me. But they're only pictures. It must be heard. It must be held. I will.

Surprise Waiting for Satisfaction

One of my goals for quite some time has been to create a Native American style flute for myself. I've done the research, contacted other flute makers, even had a couple custom built for me. Upon arriving in Fresno, I determined that I should acquire the tools I would need. Table saw, router table, drill press, belt sander, scroll saw and bench grinder. (Don't know why the grinder, I've just always wanted one.) I picked up a piece of wood that I thought would work as a flute, actually two because of the length. I have a garage full of fifty years of living. I had a plan for making the space for these tools. I even bought an honest-to-goodness workbench. Then Spring became Summer. In Fresno, that means triple digits for nearly four months. Sure I could have gone out in the early morning hours. Who wants to get up that early?

Well, toward the end of the hot season, I went ahead and assembled all the power tools. Keep in mind I'm not a wood craftsman. In fact, wood and I haven't exactly gotten along in the past. Nearly thirty years ago I built a bookcase. It was custom designed to fit the space I had and for paperback books. It's really pretty good except for the bottom. You see, I didn't have any fancy tools then. I used a hand saw. So it leans. Forward. My daughter can attest because she still has it. I digress. So now I have all these really pretty tools in my garage. I now have considerably less space than I expected. No matter, I have become accustomed to shuffling this to make room for that.

I don't know if you've ever worked with power tools on wood. I have, a little, and I knew that sharp things moving very fast through wood can spread a lot of dust. I had no idea the potential volume! Let's just say that when you're warned to wear a mask, DO IT! I have a series of pictures at Facebook and Flickr that show the process and some of the dust mess. I have several friends who like to track my progress. So I stop, take a picture, move on. Sometimes I forget. Sorry. I have at least one friend that wants me to make a video of the whole thing. She's sweet and funny and I love her dearly but I'm not sure I want to subject my photographic equipment to that environment!

So, I've cut and drilled and sanded and glued. I've cursed and laughed (at myself) and questioned my sanity. Through it all, however, I have asked Creator and Mother Earth to help me get through it. Yesterday I glued the two halves back together. I clamped them and set them aside. The bottle says thirty minutes to set and 24 hours for something approaching permanent bond. I left it alone for 7 hours. The result is a square tube with a couple holes in the top. I took the fetish from one of my other flutes and set it in place. I raised the rather sad looking thing to my lips and blew. To my very great surprise, it sounded like a flute. Considerably higher pitched than I expected, but a clear tone nonetheless.

In a reply to my status at Facbook, a dear friend said, "Satisfying isn't it?" I'm still waiting for the surprise to wear off, but satisfaction is quickly replacing it. Prayers do get answered. I've been trying to maintain my focus on doing this the "right way." That's an expression from indigenous peoples that means "do it with respect" for all things. I guess I'm on the right path.

Starting at Not the Beginning

What prompts someone to publish their thoughts and feelings on the Internet? A desire for validation? The need for love and admiration? An outgoing personality that wants to share itself with the world? Am I one or all of those? The intellectual part of me hopes not. The vain part of me, of course, is all about those things. I believe, in my heart, that I will share of myself those things that others will find interesting, amusing, inspiring, maybe even enlightening. Entertainment mixed with a bit of education may be my goal. At least that sounds pretty good.

The name? LaughingBear is a name that was given under unusual circumstances. Unusual is such a subjective term. What's usual for one may be shocking for another. Experience creates the environment in which usual is born. I'll post an entry with that story another time. I'm sure I'll be reminded, too.

LaughingBear Ventures describes the lofty ambitions I've set for myself. I have too many interests; hobbies, pursuits, aspirations, and wanted a way to roll them all up in one neat package. It wasn't easy finding a name that didn't already exist, for this is also to be a business enterprise. Therein lies my biggest challenge. How do I turn what I think I can do into something that may provide some financial support? I've already taken the first steps. And yes, that's a subject for another entry.

So here I sit, contemplating all the things that I want to insert into this expose of me. Follow the dreams of a middle-aged man with a confused and complicated past, if you wish. I'll do my best to follow the example of a dear friend on another continent and make these entries with some regularity.

For now, I leave you with my standard closing (which will also be explained later):

Blessings, Love and Peace
Laughing Bear