The Wizard Series Part IV: Smoke, Fire and Metal

I miss blacksmithing.

For my new readers, I was an apprentice blacksmith at my last duty station under the tutelage of Jack Parks, the proprietor of Fire Steel Forge in Piedmont, South Dakota.

I started lessons in August 2005.  Most of my friends thought it was neat, while others thought I was off my rocker; i.e. the famous "why make it by hand when you can buy it machine made?" argument.

Why indeed.  Because I think we lose some of our humanity when we let machines take over for our hands and imaginations (read what Jack has to say).

For good or ill, my job ONLY involves me applying my mind to problems.  Sure, I'm good at my job, but what I create at work is intangible.  I can't bring analysis home to momma as a gift, or hang it on a wall.  Touching a report on Iran doesn't have the same palpability as a handmade tool, or smell for that matter (unless you like toner).  Thus as professionally rewarding my work was at the time (and still is), I needed an outlet to create lasting objects.

Although I also have an interest in woodworking, metal has a distinct pull on my senses.  I like the play between strength and delicacy a master smith can draw out of metal.  I love the sound of the forge, the smell of the coal, the menagerie of tools (not to mention you can build your own tools), and the forgiveness of the material if you make a mistake (but yes, you can burn metal if you don't keep an eye on the forge). 

Above all, I like the contemplation of the craft.  The smith spends a great deal of time between heats, and the time is spent quietly thinking about the next tasks.  The quick cooling of the metal once it leaves the forge means you must know exactly what you plan to do once your work is on the anvil.  Personally, I find the singular focus relaxing, as it chases all distractions away.

By my last lesson in May 2006 Jack had taught me "everything I needed to know" about blacksmithing.  That is, I knew enough of the basics that given enough time I could create anything I wanted.  But it also meant I had to keep practicing and learning:  thus the "everything" was really the confidence to operate independently without fear of mistakes.  Let alone lighting myself on fire.

But here I am almost two years later, and I can't even remember the smell of the coal.

Here's the rub:  setting up my own shop will be a significant initial outlay of cash:  around $3,000 or so.  Buying my first house has made money tight for the past year, but I've paid off sufficient bills that I can now start seriously planning my first kit.

But I have a large logistical issue to deal with:  the military.  I might be moving as soon as summer 2009, with perhaps 2 more moves after that.  Thus not only will I have to trust movers to handle thousands of dollars in tools, but I also have no idea what kind of shop space I'll have down the road.  Ideally I'd like a metal structure with a dirt floor and distant or deaf neighbors, which means my current garage doesn't quite fit the bill.  But I also don't want to wait another 6 to 10 years to start forging.  So instead of pissing and moaning I'm trying to build a plan given the constraints. 

First of all, I'm keeping up with the literature; it's not the same as swinging a hammer, but hitting the books at least keeps my mind sharp.  I'm also going to start with a gas forge rather than coal.  Gas forges don't offer the same versatility as coal but they burn cleaner, which makes suburban neighbors happier.  Plus I think I'd rather move a cleaner forge between assignments rather than a coal forge and the associated coal stockpile.  And as Jack advised, I don't need a huge setup to get started.  I won't get my grand workshop until I retire, but I can still create with the basics and build my own tools and jigs as needed.

Finally, I'm considering signing up for a oxyfuel welding course at the local community college.  My contract with Jack was to learn only traditional smithing techniques; but he advised I learn to weld, as it's a handy skill to have when you just need to quickly build a table, workhorse, or other tool to help with the actual creative process.  I've pored over welding books, but it's not something I'm comfortable doing by just reading:  I want to watch and learn hands-on with a professional.  I could probably just pay for a short lesson at a local shop, but based on the college course description I think I'd get more bang for the buck in the full, certification-geared class than some fast hack job.  Plus, I'm interested in metalwork as a whole and not just traditional blacksmithing, so knowledge of a wider range of metal crafting techniques will increase my creative options.

But right now the planning circle comes back to money, and I'll need to pay off as many bills as possible prior to my potential summer 2009 move.  Thus my near term plan is to re-explore the crevices of my drawing and painting mind--I can afford that now, and the practice with perspective, form, composition, mediums, and discipline will pay off in my future metal shop.  I'll keep hitting the metal literature, as well, and might even pick up a woodworking text or two!

I'm motivated, but just need to bide my time... and plan for when the time comes.

In the meantime, let me drift off to the memories of a forge in South Dakota...

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Trackposted to Outside the Beltway, Rosemary's Thoughts, Right Truth, Adam's Blog, Leaning Straight Up, Cao's Blog, The Amboy Times, Big Dog's Weblog, Conservative Cat, Pursuing Holiness, Adeline and Hazel, third world county, Allie is Wired, The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns, The World According to Carl, Pirate's Cove, Blue Star Chronicles, The Pink Flamingo, Right Voices, and The Yankee Sailor, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

Comments

[tom]

Smithing, iron or word, you are multitalented!