Weather changes, and so do I...Drumming, ancient crafts, Day 15

I was taken by the notion of making my own when I got to play and hear The World Drum, which has traveled all over the world, from hand to hand.  It has been played in ceremonies and quiet celebrations and riotous dancing, and seems a miracle of worldwide cooperation in these turbulent times.  It brings peace to the heart.

For more of its amazing story, read this from Morten Wilf Storeide.

My first still goes everywhere with me...

 

My drums absorb the moisture in the air, changing tone day by day, hour by hour--I sympathize!  The weather affecs me greatly as well.  Their voices become lower and lower these humid days--and less resonant--and finally, soft and flat.  I warm and dry them as ancient peoples have done for eons, and once again their voices rise and ring and resonate, each with its own mysterious song.

The rawhide still carries within it the life of the deer and elk that once walked the land; the wood of the rims was born of stately trees that grew tall and took nourishment from the earth...as do we all.

I have loved making my own drums...and will make at least one more.  The most recent I call my healing drum; the rim of ash wood reminds me of my ancestors and of Yggdrasil, the World Tree of old Norse tales.  The hide was a gift from a friend, who prepared it himself.  And each step of the process was meaningful, respectful, and sacred.  The big elk drum is the family drum...Joseph plays it too and loves the deep rich sound.

Each one is different, and sounds different.  Each has its own demands, and resonates in its own way.