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Mittwoch, 22. Juni 2016

Grosses Messer-Update

I have been desperately in need to practice my swordsmithing abilities, so after talking to James Elmslie on the sword expo in Solingen last year and the lovely work of Jake Powning I felt inspired to give a "Grosses Messer" (in this case more of a hunting sword) a go for practice. As a single-edged weapon, tempering is a bit easier, for a thick spine makes it not that prone for warping in the quench.

I want to make abundantly clear that I owe a lot to these masters, as I do to Peter Johnsson, Stefan Roth, and Petr Florianek, as you all full well know, and since the occasion arises from time to time, I want to emphasize that I do not want to copy any of their works, but feel inspired by them to eventually find my own style. I also want to say that plagiarism does a lot of harm to a most ancient and honourable art, especially if it is done at a lousy quality. It fouls up things for all of us, and it will eventually ruin the art and the atmosphere of it.

The blade is made from Unimog spring steel with a carbon content of about 75%. The guard and pommel will be wrought iron. The blade will get a selective temper on edge and spine. For scales I plan stag antler or bog oak. I´ll keep you posted!

Where there´s a will, there´s a way - and a fond thankyou to a load of friends

 I wrote about my mishap recently. It was all my fault, really, of course. Of course, I could not afford a new frame. I had my phases, of course. At first, it was resignation. My bike stood in my attic for three days. I had called Dennis from Metal Motion Bikes, and he agreed to do the best he could for me. Which in this case was roundabout 200€ for a new frame or yeah... something else;-). People from the Bike industry may know this as JRAs (just riding alongs). I did not want this, because I have sworn to stick to the truth as best as I can. So call me naïve, but no new frame for me. He then tried to get a new derailleur hanger for my old Orange frame, with no effect. Oh, I was like, fuck it all, life sucks, and got furious. The bike industry is playing havoc with people, as does just about any industry at the moment, but in this case their so-called innovations are often frankly absurd. We talked about one corporation currently developing 36"-wheels, and no, you read right, it´s not a typo meaning 26". What´s next? Back to Penny Farthings? Of course, this will be tauted "the" next big thing. In an article in a bike magazine however I recently read at the railway station the editor rode a bike equipped with 26" wheels and raved about it and prophesized that this will be all the new rage next year. I can tell you, I was laughing so hard I nearly rolled on the floor. What´s becoming of all the 29" hype? Going with the wind soon, I´d say.

But all this makes me furious. It´s all a waste of resources, and we can´t afford to waste our resources any more. And my fury gave me a valuable insight, and you might laugh at me, and you are rightly doing so, for it is that simple.

I am a smith. Smiths have made this world. It was blacksmiths that made the first bicycles. Why the f*** do I think I cannot at least try to repair my frame?

So I started to think. The seattube cracked above the weld. The weld as a presumeably weak spot came out okay, and part of the tube was still attached. The aluminium used in the frame has a tensile strength of roundabout 370 N/mm². The epoxy glue I use for my knife handles has roundabout 180 N/mm² of tensile strength. If I fit in a tube with a hole for tension release and a clamp slot identical to the slot in the seat tube and use an expanding broach for reaming the inner diameter to fit a smaller-diameter seatpost, which by coincidence lay on my shelf doing nothing, that should do the trick... but where to get a tube? I almost laughed, the solution was that simple: From an old seat post I hacksawed off the clamp, which was broken anyway, drilled a tension release hole, sawed the slot and filed it to fit. Since I have no seat tube reamer I went to Dennis´shop. Felix, the mechanic was so kind as to do the job and making some more valuable suggestions-for free. Back home, I glued the tube in with epoxy and used glass fibre mat and epoxy  to wrap the seat tube. I think I´ll add another layer, just for safety, then I´ll paint it black and it´ll be almost like new.

 Yeah, I am a bit proud of my achievement. But as Leo mentioned in the comment form of the recent post, it is more than that. I have this anxiety riding on my shoulder (pun intended) constantly, and being able to find a solution for this sort of damage relieved me of it, and I want to share this with you. For I thought about something my father told me once. In WWII Germany was short of resources. He had a bicycle then, which he absolutely loved, and since he grew up on the countryside there was no such thing as roads. As a kid, he and his friends even built ramps to launch off, and coincidentally;-), he broke his cranks. He was a madman sometimes, and I can vividly imagine how the ramps looked like they took off from. Must have been the like where the challenge was to be faster downhill than the ramp and to survive the kicker... ;-) His father gave him a right whacking, of course, and showed him how to weld them back together the following day.

Another story was that he got some wooden skis for Chrismas one year... he built a ramp with his friends and broke off the tips of the skis the next day. So no skis. What to do? He simply cut some wood and built his own. They were not straight, and the tips sometimes got stuck in the snow, for he hadn´t been able to bend them properly, but they did the job, and he loved them. The next skis he bought himself in the 60´s.

What I want to say is, In "them days" people were not anxious about their material. They cared about it, of course, but it was not a matter of life and death, because they new they could come up with a solution. They did not think digitally, but looked astray from the beaten path for solutions. There were more answers than "1" or "0" or permutations thereof. You had friends and family and made do, even under circumstances that  were not ideal. It was not the bike that made the man, but the man that made the bike (or the skis).

I have learned a lot by this mishap. I still would like it had rather not happened. But it had. My repair is certainly not state-of-the art, and might even fail some day soon, but it felt empowering to again get out into the woods by my own devices.


 The rest is almost customary: Alongside murmuring creeks, up some fireroads and down some challenging singletrails I rode, smug and content with my hearing no creaking.
 The weather was not exactly at its best, and I was soon caked with mud, but grinning widely the whole time. Down a challenging singletrail I realized I need to really do more technical riding again, for my lines were shitty and incoherent, and I even nearly stacked up big style once....
 ...but it is moments like these that make it all worth it. Even clawing together my last bits and pennies to get out there is worth it.
And it is a metaphor. For life. Life sucks sometimes, yeah, that´s true. But moments like these make up for it. All in all, for every hardship, there are moments of greatness, of joy, of pleasure and contemplation, of beauty and peace. Not as a reward, and strewn away in a pattern that is incomprehensible to us mere mortals most of the time. But there IS a pattern to it...

For I was in for one last surprise. And I have to apologize to a friend. In the last years I had the impression that Moritz was a bit superfluous and chance is, he actually is. He is a different sort of human being, at least compared to my own life, and that sometimes leads to misconceptions. Yeah, I enjoy talking to something less grave and just chatting away about bikes and girls and drink and whatnot, but since I often have to think very grave thoughts and have to carry a lot of responsibilities (all my fault, really), I did not think much of his reliability. What arrogance on my part! When he learned I was without a bike and he told some tall stories about how he would organize something I therefore did not think much of it.

When I returned from a cool ride with a good coffee at the trailhead café, and unlocked the door...

... there was a derailleur hanger for a 2011 Orange Crush sitting on my mat. It was put there by Moritz, who had managed to achieve the impossible. This gives him much credit as a bike mechanic (he works for Reuber bike shop in Dortmund), but more so as a human being.

I also want to acknowledge Henning, who is a smith with Ahlhauser Hammer and who offered me his own bike as a bailout spontaneously after reading about it on my blog. In general, the offers of help and the kind words I got from my friends and readers was overwhelming.

And this is what remains to be said in this post: Those are things that count.

It may sound a bit far-fetched, but: For most humans life is a shitty place these days. Some few foul up the lives of so many at the moment. Many people suffer, and are far worse off than just having a tiny crack in their bike frame. People are hopeless, homeless, depressed, disoriented and desperately seeking for values. There is a lot more to be fixed than just a bicycle frame. What one person can do just so much. And sometimes fixing a bike frame can help you understand bigger things.

And, as strange as it may seem, the simple things remain untouched. Friendship. Love. Trying your best and hoping for the best.

And as long as these things exist, there will always be hope. We can still make it work.

Thank you, my friends, for you have given me more than just repairing a bike.

Donnerstag, 16. Juni 2016

Plan and broke

 
 
 
The plan was clear. My birthday had passed with the usual catastrophe, and I had just mopped up the shards and ruins of that what was left of my life afterwards as usual, so, in order to celebrate another survival of the shittiest day of the year, I thought, yeah, get out to do some foraging and some nice riding, have a coffee and a cake.
 
I went to the Felsengarten and got myself some herbs... 
 Sage, salvia officinalis, in German: Salbei, for tea. I like to have a sage tea when the weather is hot to cool down, and it´s good against coughs and flus and fever.


 Got myself some pine cones and sprouts for pine honey against coughs and stomach problems and for schnapps.
 Some common yarrow (Alchemilla millefolia, in German: Schafgarbe)
 Lavender, because it smells oh so good and for mead spice.
 Oh yeah, and I DID some light trials riding amongst the rocks and had fun. BIG mistake, as we will learn further down.
 But at first, I paid a long overdue visit to one of my fav cafés, the käse-deele. I had a coffee and a wafer...
 It started to rain, but I was sitting smugly under a bush and really enjoyed the good food, the solitude and the soft and silent rain.
 In fact, the landlady came over and we had a chat, and I got myself another really good coffee at a bargain, and I really breathed through and enjoyed my life. Moments like this are really cool for me, for then I can forget that the world´s a shitty place these days and people kill each other all over the world for petty reasons. It reminds me of the good old days of my childhood, of simple joys like this.
I know this is escapism, but what shall I do? I can´t help it any. I can just try to keep the damage at a minimum. And my own life is not exactly easy, too, so I need my time-out, too.

Turned out it was not that sustainable. I just rolled away from the café to hit some trails, when my bike started to creak. And creak louder. And louder still. And with a final crack I found myself sitting almost on my rear tire, for my seat tube broke.

Can´t afford a new frame, of course.

So, again some stressing out, for I do not just ride for the fun of it, but to get around, too.
Having no bike will raise my costs to a level where even getting to work will compromise my food and bodycare. Cool. :-(

Now, I will of course find a solution. Of course I will make it work. And it will not depress me any more. But it sucks. It is not that I do not work. It´s just that no one wants to pay me for it. If I would be on the dole, I would have 300 € more to spend per month. But I refuse to have anyone tell me how to live my private life. So the dole is not an option.

I do not want to whine about all this. Whining will not help. Noone will mercy me. There is no mercy, and who tells otherwise is lying.

What I sincerely want is that you understand this:

Everything comes at a price. Freedom isn´t free. Sometimes life sucks. But I will not die by a cracked frame. I do not regret the coffee or the wafers or the chat or the rain or the fragrant herbs in my backpack. I do not regret the soft rain on my face and the silent moments or well-natured chats with fellow humans. It is sad that my frame broke, and one might get a bit superstitious, and yap, I am. But I do not want to trade for a Mammonist´s life. I don´t want to give in to the anxiety that befouls so many people´s lives these days.

Some of you have hard lives that suck sometimes. Life these days is not only not easy for many of you, but a shitty hell, when you are standing on the wrong side of the line. But problems can be solved. And after every problem solved, you come out the stronger for it. You might not notice, and people tell you otherwise, but it´s simple and true.

If you give in to Mammon, however, not only your life is fucked, but your soul.

I refuse my ancient soul to be taken from me by the grey one. Call him Mammon-Pluto, Mammon-Baal, Baal-Zamon, Vrtra, Nidhöggr, Azi-Dahaka, Shaitan or Satan, it does not matter. By solving my problems with a smile, I will fight him. I will fight him to my last breath and from the first breath of my next life, with every breath of the next life to the last breath and so on through the aeons, until the world will end or this abomination is erased from the Noumenon. I will fight with smile and laughter and tears and cries and making good things and enjoying and being sad and being fierce and loving and furious and gentle. I will fight him in the world and the next and all worlds that can be, and in my own soul. I will fight him at the roots of the world tree and high up in the sky. I will tear apart his disciples with my hammers and tongs, with my saw and my chisel, with my files and pens and pencils, with sword and shield, with bow and arrow, with gun and rifle, with cauldron and goblet, with dagger and staff. By the fortress of the four winds: He will not take over completely my soul or the souls of my friends. By the heart of the Holy Wind: I will name him. By fire and wind: I will raid his fortress of the nine lies, and my dragons will seize him and prey on his flesh. I will fly again.

Period.

Care to join in? ;-)

Viking utility knife

Some progress on my little utility Viking knife, 76x4-1,5 mm three-layer laminate file and spring steel blade, nice and slicey Scandi grind, silver mounting, reindeer antler and birchwood burr. The antler will be carved still and the handle has to be waxed still. The sheath is hardened leather.

New viking sheath knife

 This is my latest project: A Viking sheath knife inspired by Norse blade finds and Mammen carving patterns. The Damascus blade (100x 5-1.5 mm) is made from file and spring steel. And here comes the best: If anyone finds a flaw, he can keep it for himself! :-P It is not quite perfect, because I am still not good enough to perform forgewelding while Nick insists on telling me jokes that are not funny and asking me how to take over Western society ;-). But as is, it cuts like the proverbial whatsitcalled ;-). Handle is...
 ...carved and tanned reindeer antler and birchwood burr.
 The blade gradually tapers from 5 - 1.5 mm, which makes for a very durable yet well-balanced and slicey blade.
 A garnet for a butt cap. The tang is almost a full tang, so no need to peen it over, and so I thought I could do some bling...;-)
The Scandi - style sheath is made from hardened leather.

I like it and I use it!

Mittwoch, 1. Juni 2016

New belt pouch

I tend to be bit lazy when leatherwork is concerned, but not because I do not enjoy it. Yesterday I found my resolve and made this belt pouch... it´s still not perfect and has to see quite some refinement still, but as is, I like it. It´s overbuilt with at least 3mm thick vegetable tanned leather, but I like to be rather safe than sorry.

I have to do this more! ;-)

Mittwoch, 25. Mai 2016

Progress on my Fimbulmuk

 Now this is a knife that I am increasingly fond of... It´s my trademark Fimbulmuk design that incorporates characteristics of the Canadian belt knife design and a Nessmuk. Scales are stag antler, the blade is Wootz steel I found in the woods. It still has to see some work, such as finishing, and a bit of filing and engraving, but as is, it´s a slicer.

I already put it through a bit of testing. it carves mild steel rods, chops stag antler, cuts funny curvatures into wet newspaper. When I tried its sharpness on the hair on the back of my head, I accidentally got myself a haircut...;-D Do I love it?

Yeah, I do!!! Plus, it´s a bit of a stinky finger into the face of all those know-it-all rationalists, for obviously you cannot find legendary steel in the woods....;-)

Progress on Maandevos-Maandevos wiärd báren!




In the thicket, under the crescent moon... the fox is hiding on its prowl.


In the dark soil, rich and of musky scent, a bar of steel did hide for decades...

Steel it is of skillful provenience, ardent and valiant, and yet pitted deeply by the ravaging rust; once it was smelted to achieve true temper... and the smiths laboured with all their might to produce a bar from the ingot, a chisel from the bar of steel. It was used to near extinction, beaten and battered and ground anew until little did remain of it... decades of hard use and pounding it saw... and then it hid in the tracks of deer and the wild boar. The owl flew above the soil where it was hidden, and the fox trod over it on its hunt.

And the crescent moon shone.

And in the tracks of fox and boar, of deer and hare I saw it, submerged in the musky earth, where death and life reign supreme. The forge was lit with roaring fire, and again a smith did labour long and carefully to pound the metal and forge into it the fangs of the fox, the light of the crescent moon, the graceful and lithe roebuck and the furious boar.

As of yet, it has seen no temper and no quench - but soon the time will come when it will be lying in the roaring embers to incorporate the mighty fire, too.

Thus it will sing.

Thus it will bite.

Mittwoch, 11. Mai 2016

OTB-new project knife

 This my latest conceptual work. I found another chisel in the woods, and on the detour, I met a fox in the moonlight... so I came up with an idea for a byknife for Úlenklawe named Maandevos (Monn-Fox)
The chisel had a carbon content of...yeah... that´s not that easy to say... for it contains a lot of Tungsten. I can tell you: Forging was not exactly easy. It´s a fully integral design that shall be engraved and inlaid... but engraving proves to be a bit arduous...;-) even if it is thoroughly annealed now...
I am a bit proud of my forging... seems I got something right.:-)

Montag, 9. Mai 2016

A tired ride to the smithy

 It is happening again.

It would be a laughing matter if it happened to someone else, but as is, I am not quite sure about it. For I am the one making a dunce of himself again.

You might have seen it coming, and I did, myself. Now it is coming nearer fast. The owners of the smithy nearly begged me to come and forge at their place, and yap, okay, I still feel appreciated, and no harm done. But that smithy is just one step away from being a complete ruin. There are exactly two ways to deal with something like that: Either you decide you want to save it, or you don´t. We had the information -and get this all over again- that the people of the funding club want the smithy to be saved. To achieve even the securing measures necessary to prevent the roof from deteriorating even more, we need at least 20.000 - 50.000 €, to rebuild all of it at least 1.5 million Euro. Period.

To get money, a funding club relies on sponsoring and membership. That much seems to be obvious.

In the half of a year our group is member of the club, we motivated roundabout 25 people to join in. Beforehand, in four years, there were about ten people, and three of them got mobbed out.

We built a forum (www.retzgen.de/hammer). Each Friday, there are so many smiths of different skill levels that our capacity is running out. For me personally, it is hard to get in some forging time, and difficult to pursue the more challenging projects such as artisan blacksmithing, jewellery, and swordsmithing, for all the tutoring I have to do. Don´t get me wrong-it´s great to have so many young guns and rookies wanting to learn the tricks of the trade, and it feels dynamic, and nothing wrong with that. We were the ones to get a TV production about the ironforge, and the best swordsmiths of the planet know about us and some even partake in the process. We had the vision to create a hotbed, to recreate the hot spot of the craft that the ironforge once was in a modern way adequate to the situation.

We looked forward to open up the smithy once a month to the public, as was at the neighbouring industrial museum, and to stage an event including an oldtimer show, demos and workshops and food and drink. WE were the ones who would organize all this, and were enthusiastic about it. There was a decision made in a meeting of all the members to do this.

Enter the rest of the club. To them we are "that group of smiths". We get no support whatsoever for Sundays, in fact, the senior blacksmith came over last Sunday, when we lonely smiths were standing there toodling along (quote) why we were working on the "day of the Lord". Yeah, he might be right. Yeah. But the answer is: "Because we want to put a roof onto that ruin?", to wit, the question mark.
The other senior members just sat there in the sun looking at us as if we were some freak show going on. So no more open Sunday, no more open to the public, no more new potential members.

To make it all even more insane, then, in a recent meeting of the head chairmen, one of the head of board demanded that each new member had to apply formally for membership in an official session of all members, and there had to be an unanimous assent upon the approval of each new member from each of the members already approved. And while I acknowledge that not every freak should be admitted to a sports or, say, re-enactment or hunting or bushcraft club, we are talking about a funding club. So, let´s say there´s a sponsor wanting to contribute to saving the site by joining the club. He wants to contribute, but cannot make a donation. Let´s say it is January. He then has to wait until the middle of the year to join the session of all the members, and even then it would not be necessarily the case that he would be approved. So, the chance to get new members, or even financial potentates, is near zero.

In the very same meeting the second chairman (I already told you that I did not like him much), abdicated. And while I was not at all agreed with him, I have the strong suspicion that he got mobbed out. That is not at all okay. Even if I did not like him, I would have made it work. He might have been scheming to mob me out, but on the other hand, this is wrong.

All things added up, I just have to say, it makes me tired. It just sucks. Again I put a lot of work, time, energy and the visions and passion of my heart into a project that is doomed by the ignorance of some few. We are many, yap, but that does not help any. Ignorance is legion.

Sometimes I get the impression that you do not prosper by prowess and intelligence, but by ignorance, malice and greed. I know this will ultimately lead to the doom of our species, but why the f*** should it? There is no rational reason the dumb, malevolent and ignorant should be the leaders of mankind. But they are.

All these things in mind, I was feeling less than motivated to get to the smithy on Friday, but I still wanted to go. So I saddled my steed early and did what had never failed me, at least not the thing itself: I rode there by bike. I rode through my beloved woods. I tasted the wind in huge swallows. I laughed and danced on a sunray.   
 I rode up and down slopes of dirt and debris, and I heard the singing of the songy birds of spring.
 I looked into the valleys, and I got there by my own devices. And I thus earned the right to stand above the darkness of the dale, and to look down into it, removed from the actual. The trails were tricky and technical, and took their toll on me, and often I struggled. But finally I got onto the hilltop. I might not be at my best at the moment. But still I managed and had fun in the process.
 The woods were greeting me with warmth, and sunlight, and vibrant life greeting a new year, and yeah, now the new year is truly alive... gone are the last shreds of winter.
 Riding down a technical trail with gusto, I came across this reconstruction of an old iron mine deep in the Ennepe valley, which has an ironworking history of nearly a thousand, maybe even some 2000 years. You can´t put an end to this that easily. The grey god shall skulk from the fire and the dragon of poetry. Everywhere there are birds and beasts returning to the forest; the buzzard flies, and hare and wild pig and deer, badger, fox and wolf return to the world of the woods. There is no victory for Mammon-Vrthreach.
 To the smithy I rode with intent. I took the life force from the forest, I sucked it in like fresh air and a warm drink of honey and nine herbs.
 Yeah, the world of humans is ruled by greed and malice and ignorance-but I strive to unbecome human. To become forest. To become law. To become spirit, and twilight.
 Then I arrived at the smithy with a bit more vigour than at the start of my ride :-). I was greeted by Nick, and we had a chat, and while we were talking, we got a visitor...
 What now does it mean if a smith gets visited by a firebug? :-)
The fire is roaring wildly. It is not to be fathomed by the grey. It leaves behind soot, and ash, and cleansed iron. Underneath the scale there is the steel, and sometimes the brighter ore is hiding under the rust. We refuse to admit defeat. We do not surrender. We take no prisoners any more.

And we share the most dangerous armour we can possibly don: The laughter of a smith.

Mittwoch, 4. Mai 2016

Of Swords and Owls and new and old wisdom- Solingen knife expo 2016

 On Sunday the tides were turning again towards the DAY. THAT day. In every year I - and more and more of my friends- visit the Solingen knife expo. Nick and Kathrin were meeting me in the train, and Torben had joined us. Torben is currently contemplating becoming a full - time - swordsmith. I had advised him he´d rather not become a swordsmith as only profession, but rather get as complete an education as possible, meaning, doing an apprenticeship as a blacksmith and bladesmith and get those swordsmithing skills by personal studies in archaeology, metallurgy, mythology, philosophy, psychology, law and first and foremostly, bladesmithing. I also suggested he´d have a chat with the best on the expo, and there he was. As is customary with me on the expo, I was still in the entrance hall of the museum when I had my first chat. Nick and Kathrin, who are accustomed to that endeavour, were off on their own, and Torben joined in.

It was a really cool experience, for it was at the checkroom where there was a young lady going like "Hey, nice cap you have, Naalbindning, is it?" I looked at her and was like "yeah, it´s my luck charm cap...Viking reenactress, are you?". It all ended in a half of an hour of chatting, discussion and sharing a laugh or two. I gave her my Email, and there might be some cooperation in the future. We´ll see...

Then I ventured into the room where I usually tardy a lot of time in a most agreeable manner. This year would be no different.
 As always, it was a pleasure to meet with the Steigerwald couple. Stefan is a full - time knifemaker and sells knifemaking supplies. He had this really cool display made for a top - quality watch. I am always amazed at the technically advanced and lovingly made display systems and art concept knives he makes, for they show an abnormal attention to detail. Maybe not my piece of cake most of the time, but my respect goes to the craftsmanship, which is meticulous.
Next to Stefan was another nice guy I always like to meet, Peter Abel of Lindenschmiede smithy.
I really love his style of blades that combine eloquence with an interesting and rugged atmosphere.
For the quality offered, the blades present a right bargain.
For a smaller budget, he got some Solingen kitchen knives on display.

Here Mel Gibson ...errr... Peter shows off his latest somewhat psychotic--- erm--- kitchen knife???:-D This was a huge beast with a proper spine thickness.

After having a chat with peter about this and that, I immediately made to the second floor of the museum. There Anssi Ruusuvuori held a lecture on the Finnish Puukko. It certainly inspired me to do a feature on that myself, and I have learned a lot. It also was a right privilege to meet with Mrs. Ph. D. (Dr.) Grotkamp - Schepers who managed her last expo as head of the museum, for she will enjoy her retirement from now on. I would very much like to thank her for all the great times I had at the museum. She was a very competent manager, with a vast knowledge and a heart for blades. Even more so, she also had a vision, and the museum would not exist in this form had it not been for her motivation. I, for one, in turn would not know what I know had it not been for this museum. The bladesmithing community worldwide owes a lot to this person. From my heart, I wish her all the best!

Then I was off to meet up with Peter. I am not quite sure if he is my master. What I can safely say, though, is, that he is a guy I personally feel obliged to thank for years of enlightening moments, and I mean it in a spiritual way. Peter is a very professional person, and hides his real personality well, but the ideas and the spirit that drives him are so violently strong that it simply shines through his very existence. I can´t put it another way than this: He once stated that he felt himself as a warrior of the mind (and spirit, I might add), and the light of wisdom and knowledge. This light shines through him in a very concrete manner.
I feel a bit helpless, and I am not convinced that my gibberish makes any sense to you. Peter is on the one hand a normal guy. He is like you and me. He is a human beings and he has his shortcomings and you could make fun of them. I do not even know how he drinks his coffee, and chance is, he sometimes gets a bit annoyed by this his faithful swordsmith´s groupie, for swordsmithing groupies tend to be a bit on the ugly side of pretty;-D. But there is something about Peter that has nothing to do with all that stuff. He is driven, and you can feel it radiating off him. As Rick Furrer once put it, he does not "make swords, because he can´t make anything else, but because he CAN´T make anything else." I know full well the picture of the xiphos he made for the exposition and which he presents here, does not do it 10 % justice. Nothing can at all. The mere first sight of this sword has kept my mind racing for months, when I first saw it last year. It is not because it is so beautiful and that I would want something like this, or want to make something like this, but because the object itself has an energy that speaks for itself. Whether you can feel it or whether you cannot feel it - words and even pictures cannot do it justice. It is poetry come to life. It is the very essence of the poetic light, penetrating and piercing and even violent, rising up from the dark cauldron of a lake in the forest. Stars are reflected on its surface, and slowly, deliberately the sword rises. Male and female, god and goddess, and yet it is neither. The reflection of enlightenment  shimmers around its edges, and the stars are reflected deep in its surface. It is like the moon on the water; The waves do not affect it, but ripples run through it to cast another quality into its violent light. For violent it is. It incorporates a fury against the injustice and the ravaging of the dream; a primeval anger against the ruin of knowledge and the downfall of morality. The blade is fierce; to handle it without risk for the hand that holds it, for the heart to which it is an elongation, there has to be a hilt that is not to be corroded.

 A hilt of gold.

Five fingers are the hand upon the handle of the sword: Birth, life, love and death-the question where the thumb is- is the answer.

Peter has made this sword. But, as I suspect, this sword has made Peter, too. It has consumed a lot of his energy, or so I feel it, and it is a bit possessive... and I should say that it might be expected that his swordsmithing, at least for himself, might not be the same as before.

I must admit I was really taken by our conversation. Whenever I meet with Peter, I leave with a lot of very intense feelings and thoughts. This time it was far worse than usual, for this sword is the very essence of my path, the path I have been on for the last 24 years. It is a symbol that is searingly energetic, laden with meaning, and it sank deep into my heart and mind and soul. So I roamed somewhat engaged in thought through the aisles, and for a good measure of time I was unable to see anything. It did not quite help meeting Meinhard, who was doing a scythe demo in the atrium of the museum and who tried to exchange some superfluous jokes with me. I am meaning no offence by saying so, but after a genuine spiritual experience I was not quite in a mood of telling jokes.

On the other hand, it made me mad that so many people strive so much to remain ignorant (excluding Meinhard). I am not saying that everyone should fall into a frenzy just by looking at Peter Johnsson´s swords and talk a lot of philosophical gibberish. Many of you, my faithful readers, cannot relate to all that metaphysical talk. But most of you actually think for yourselves and come to your own conclusions. I see it in the comments you post and read it on your blogs. But in everyday society, there currently is a movement to become ever so much more ignorant of the real world, where you do not have two extra lives and you can´t swish a situation or a problem away by a flick of your fingers. Meinhard´s desperate joking fetched me back into that world, and it helped me root myself back into the position I am in. Peter´s sword is a part of an ideal world, in an idiomatic sense of the world. It is true, and it is the other side made steel. It is a piece of real magic. Magic is not permitted anymore. You shall circumscribe it by prosaic words. Everything has to be focused upon the psychotic personality of Mammon-Pluto. I call him a name. I call him by his real name. I name him by the name he bore in an ideal world: I name him the ursurper. I name him the grey maggot. I name him the spider that kills dreams. I name him venom and doom of the world.

Before the cauldron, the sword has risen - He of the Long Hand was permitted to it.

And slowly, "I came to my senses" again, but knew not which senses...if that makes any sense to you...:-)

Bummer:

I had another visit to do, and this was one of my favourite human beings on the expo, namely JT Pallikkö. He is a guy I really value, for I  should think he is one of the mentally healthiest persons I have ever met, even if he often looks like a lunatic;-). JT ´s always good for exchanging some mad jokes, but his work and the little talk we had on more grave subjects shows he is a very complete and complex personality. He does not make much out of it. He just makes excellent knives and swords and lets his work speak for itself, and he is very down-to-earth.

But then he showed me this hunting sword. Not his fault that my metaphysical antennas were still chafed raw by the encounter with the piercing light. And hey, as he put it, just a rustic piece. Now I obviously have a liking for rustic,


...and I obviously love owls...
...especially when they are carved that nicely....
...and that big knife all in all was very inspiring...
...but what I saw was something different.
I saw a hunter, stealthy as the flight of the owl in a time that was not a time, in a place that was not a place, wearing this hunting sword on his belt. Lightly he was shod, and slightly he trod, and his face was hooded, as he stalked his prey with the fierce elegance of a fox.
Back to reality-I was simply amazed at the balance of the piece. It had a short tang not reaching all the way through the handle, and a broad and unfullered blade... and yet it was that dexterous you could handle it with three fingers, with a COG just some two or three centimetres from the hilt. When I addressed JT upon that, he just shrugged and smiled and said "Maybe it´s the massive guard... and there´s a pin through the tang...". That´s JT for you.;-) To put it quite plaintive, this achievement is an astonishing feature even for a true master. It is one thing to make a blade that´s hard and flexible enough. Another is a geometry that cuts well. Yet another is aesthetics. To achieve balance and percussion with some dirty tricks like fullers and regrinding or tapering or drilling or whatnot is good. But to achieve balance and percussion like this with a blade that has no fullers and where everything speaks against its favours needs a first try effort. So to say, you have one chance to get it right, and that´s the first and last of it.  
I liked the other pieces as well, of course. I might want to steal one or the other idea from him, but will never be able to get up to this standard.
I liked this detail of the hunting sword´s scabbard. All the mountings are handforged, of course.
Then he showed me another highlight of his. Finland, as the rest of the world, is not the safest place to be these days.
So he showed me...
..with a flick of a hand...
drawing his very special take on a Kerambit design. This incorporates a quick-draw-sheath made from specially hardened leather with a snap almost like Kydex, but far more silent.
We then discussed on end how fierce a Kerambit actually is. And we both agreed that most Kerambits only have an option for lethal techniques, and this was not sitting quite that well with JT. For this I respect him most of all. His take offers two options for non-lethal techniques, and the blade option is but tertiary. The ring has a blunt point to inflict pain on sensitive body parts as the back of a hand. The blade´s spine offers another spike for the same purpose. Only in the most desperate scenario of all one actually has to use the blade. This shows true insight in the real nature of a defence situation. We also agreed that it is always better to give your opponent a quick blow and run away, or run away in the first. Remember: A knife fight is NOT AT ALL romantic. It is the worst kind of fight anyone could ever get into, and there is a high possibility that none of the opponents will live to tell the tale afterwards.
Better go and pick some mushrooms;-).
This is another take on the Kerambit theme JT interpreted. I understood it was the predecessor of the one above. He is currently doing negotiations upon a production or semi-production run on the Kerambit. I asked him if he gave me permission to make one for myself, but I do not think I will. I don´t like fighting knives much, and I don´t think I will want to make myself one.
This absolutely handsome gentleman;-) was next to JT´s booth, Pekka Tuominen did not have that much on display,
but his excellent work as he had on his booth spoke for itself and his opus more clearly than many other knifemaker´s portfolio. His knives are always made with meticulous craftsmanship that spell excellence.
Unfortunately I was being late, so I missed out on the work of Anssi Ruusuvuori. He was the one who held the lecture on the Finnish Puukko in historical times and gave valuable insight along the lines of his new book that only but recently has been translated into German. Having browsed through it I can say, it´s a good buy, if you can afford it, and is on my wish list right now.

Off to - whose? booth now:
Yap, you are right, Maihkel Eklund, famed Swedish knifemaking master, had a load of goodies on display, from his trademark highly decorated mini hand axes...
...to his wonderfully engraved belt knives...
...meticulously crafted weekend project blades at an outright bargain price for the quality...
folders and watches...

...and his own personality;-) Maihkel is another great guy I always like to meet, even if I am constantly short of time when I meet him. To my liking, the expo should last a week or so, then I would be able to get in all the talk I would normally need! 

Turning to the other aisle, I met Andreas Hendrichs again. Andreas is a most accomplished swordsmith...
...as one can easily see in these blades...
....

I especially loved that seax.

...blade blanks...
I feel I have seen this knife on the booth of the laid Robert Sederl last year, I´d nearly swear an oath upon it in fact, but Andreas said it was originally his, so so be it.... it´s a cool design anyways...:-)
I was craving some coffee and I was being a bit over the top, so I had to settle down. In the garden of the museum there was this Kyudo demo waiting... and a someone (you know who you are :-)) who stated this was a "disgusting discipline cult" and that he was put off by it. To emphasize it, he repeated it several times, just to make sure I was getting the point. I was too deeply submerged in my own thoughts to properly react... and I know he reads my blog. So I should say I am not agreed. Of course, any military discipline and drill is. But it misses the mark by far. It is a ritualistic art, and in that empowers the individual to safely access the darker aspects of one´s self to overcome and integrate them into one´s personality. It has its roots in military discipline, but aggression and warfare and armed conflict is a part of us as human species. A part that is not pretty, but a part no less. In order to learn self control, one naturally has to put oneself under scrutiny. Rituals always help in the integration of psychological contents and conflicts. Kyudo in my opinion, is a ritual that helps overcome inner conflicts. Of course, it is a Zen discipline, and even Zen has a sorry history of fascistic tendencies, but that´s also true with the runes. While those were instrumentalized in the Third Reich, this is but a span of some 17 years in a history that´s presumeably more than1400 years old or older.
I was a bit relieved to meet with Achim and Norbert. Achim Wirtz and Norbert Bahls are friends of my old tutor, Matthias Zwissler, and it´s always a pleasure to meet. They are craftsmen through and through and offer legendary quality.
..and also the famed monster Damascus material, a Damascus that is ideal for beginners, because it forges very unproblematically.
Knives by Norbert. I like the clean lines and no-nonsense aesthetics...
..in fact his style shares a lot of similarities to that of Achim.
I still love that Seax Achim made last year... I have to make one myself soon.
I was outright relieved to be able to settle down a bit, and I had a cuppa coffee and a piece of cake and a delicious sausage. Then Nick, Kathrin and Torben and I met again. We walked out of the museum, said our goodbyes, and were off to Gräfrath village to have some delicious food at Gräfrather Klosterbräu.
On our way home we came by this advertisement. It reads "You live. Do you remember?". To me, this slogan summed up the essence of a day that was not exactly easy for me.

I took home a lot of inspiration and a new sense of purpose.

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