Drawing from life is a form of direct observation.

            Regardless of skill level, the very act of drawing something that is within your field of vision is healthy for your brain.  Simply trying to represent something realistically on paper forces us to actually look at it (the object or scene being drawn) with a more sensitive and critical eye. The brain is instantly more engaged when looking at something while drawing it, than when just casually observing that same object.   New neural networks are created in the grey matter, and our knowledge of, and relationship to that thing is deepened.  In this way, drawing builds an intimate knowledge of that which is being drawn.

Most of drawing is seeing.

            Drawing from direct observation (life) is essentially the attempt to create an illusion of 3D on a 2D surface.  But it is also more than that.  Drawing is more of an exercise of the eye’s ability to see, than that of the hand’s mechanical skill or coordination.  Looking at something and seeing it are sometimes two different things. 

Seeing is a choice.  The biggest failure of the eyes is the failure to use them. 

Draw what you actually see, not what you think you see.

This is perhaps the most important insight that I share with my students.  I will illustrate this lesson with a short story:

Once upon a time a child was drawing a tree.  This young artist was sitting at a desk in front of a window that looked out upon a forest.  The child had seen trees before and knew what they were supposed to look like, so he didn’t consider looking through the window to use the real trees as reference.  The finished drawing was contrived, greatly stylized, and not convincing as a realistic tree.  Over time this child learned that his drawings of trees looked more like real trees when he actually looked at them while drawing.  Oh, and he lived happily ever after.  The end.

In this case a contrived tree is something that came from pre-catalogued “knowledge” of what a tree is supposed to look like.  It is actually quite common for people to unconsciously trade genuine sensual experiences for those that are biased by previous conceptions. 

There is nothing wrong with this tendency, unless you are trying to draw from life and have it look real.

Everyone can draw.  

Why are some folks afraid of making a series of lines on paper?  I regularly hear people say that they can’t draw.  My response usually goes something like this depending on who is making the declaration: “who told you that?” followed by, “everyone can draw” then, “maybe you just don’t know how yet”.  Indeed, one of the saddest things for me to hear from a child’s mouth is those words, for he or she has already been told (one way or another) that they can’t draw, and has integrated that belief into their lives.  Of course if you think that you cannot do something, there is no reason to try.  And that is not a good way to gain skills.

I think that people get this idea in their heads that a drawing has to be a work of art.  Forget that!  If you believe that everything you draw should be a masterpiece, than you will never practice.  Draw to learn (make new brain patterns), rather than to make a master piece.  Try this instead: think of drawing as a process; a practice; an awareness exercise.  This perspective shift takes all the pressure and expectation out of what can be a very satisfying and educational thing to do.  Over time the ‘masterpieces’ become a byproduct of your intentional scribbles.

Step one: obtaining the hides.

One reason why we decided to tan rabbit pelts with the children is because of the access we have to a local rabbit farm.  Another attractive feature is their size, which is small enough for the tanning project to be a reasonable undertaking.  We presented the kids with the hides (already skinned from the rabbits) and had each of them stretch their pelts flesh-side-out over a short section of round log to use as a fleshing and scraping surface.

Step two: fleshing

This is the part where you test how much the students really want to learn this skill.  When the hide comes off the animal various amounts of fat and flesh come with it.  This stuff has to come off in order to progress.  We used a variety of fleshing tools: some made from antler, stone, hard wood, and even our hands.  Some kids saved the fat pieces from their hides to use as fuel for their fat burning stone lamps.  They all agreed that this was the grossest part of the entire process. 

Step three: scraping

In order for the dressing to thoroughly coat the fiber structure of the hides (the dermis), the thin membrane from the flesh side (the hypodermis) needs to be scraped off.  We used the same tools that were utilized in the fleshing process, although now it was more of a challenge to keep the young tanners methodical and persistent enough to effectively remove the membrane.  This is the stage of the process that the kids received the most help from the instructors, mostly because it was difficult to see the membrane layer and they were just then gaining experience with the scraping tools for the first time.  Once the hides were more or less scraped, the children used sand paper to lightly buff the entire hide, paying special attention to the places that were stubborn to scrape.

Step four: dressing

The dressing substance needs to be emulsified oil. Traditionally people used brains mashed up and mixed with warm water for tanning hides.  We used chicken eggs as our dressing, which have been used for this purpose for ages.  A dozen eggs beaten and mixed with a half gallon of warm water was enough for fourteen rabbit hides to get two applications.  The kids took turns with the paint brushes as they applied the egg dressing onto their dry scraped hides, being careful not to get any egg into the fur.  As the hides moistened they were worked with the hands in order to expose the fibers of the dermis to the oils in the dressing.  The hides were worked this way until dry, and then the dressing was reapplied.   

Step five: stitching

For many of the kids this was the first time they had threaded a needle. Each of the holes that had appeared in the hides (some from over scraping) were stitched closed using a simple whip stitch.  The craftsmanship clearly improved with the sewing of each hole.

Step six: stretching

With the holes all sewn up the stretching process began.  We fired up the wood stove in the barn and each student pulled and tugged on their hides in opposing directions until they were dry and velvety soft.  At this point the project was nearing its end and the kids could directly appreciate the transformation that was occurring.

Step seven: smoking

In order to seal the deal, the rabbit hides needed to be smoked.  When the smoke from punky wood is forced through the hide, the fibers of the dermis are coated with resins that finalize the transformation.  Our smoking station was composed of a metal bucket with 6 inches of hardwood coals in it, an overhead line of cordage about 10 feet high, and an old pair of denim pants for the buffer skirt.  The hides were stitched together into two furry tubes, each stitched to the cuff of each pant leg.  The other end of the hide tubes were tied off to the overhead line for suspension.  The waistline of the pants was sealed over the rim of the metal bucket after a fresh layer of punky wood was added to produce smoke.  The kids watched and listened attentively for flames, and added more punky wood when needed.  After 20 minutes or so the hides were finished smoking and the tanning process was completed.

After thoughts:

It was an ambitious project to have a group of kids (age 8-13) each tan their own rabbit hide.  Keeping their attention span’s focused on the completion of the project began to be a challenge for some, particularly during the scraping process.  However, each student’s enthusiasm was rekindled once the stretching was complete, and the hides changed texture from wet and slimy, to soft and velvety.  Each step of the way became its own curriculum: providing opportunities to develop skills and experience with stone tools, needle and thread, the anatomy of a mammal hide, natural history of the lagomorphs, and possibly the most valuable lesson being that persistence and hard work can pay off in great ways. 

When all the hides were finished we took a group photo of the kids and their rabbit pelts.  Seconds after I took the picture, a snowshoe hare bounded out from the brush pile just behind the group and disappeared into the forest.   The kids scattered from their poses and promptly organized into tracking teams.  As one project ended another began.

The first time I saw and heard a big glassy flake of obsidian driven from a core I knew I was doomed. Over the last ten years that ‘doom’ has been the search for making that sound, that clean hard pop, as the millions of tiny bonds holding the rock together let go in a clean shockwave and release the flake I need. Each strike over this time has been and experiment, each experiment has brought me closer to understanding the variables that decide if you get that clean flake, or if you get a chattered and step fractured mess.  There is magic in that sound, that clean flake and the clean edges of dangerous sharpness is leaves on both the detached flake and the core.  That magic has given human beings their oldest tools, and is at the heart of millions of years of human and pre-human life.

Knapping is about taking good flakes, and good flakes are not mysterious, although sometimes they may seem to be so. Good flakes are what makes a good arrow head, spear point, or knife. Good flakes are everything. Simple, yet elusive, the variable that can take you there can be controlled, you can set yourself up for success, but you have to know how to do it, and you have to know where you are trying to go. Thanks to piles of hours in various knapping pits, basements, barns, and out the back of my truck or even in the front seat on one desperate occasion while traveling, I have really started to see it and feel it. I am proficient...not a master, but proficient none the less, and after all these years really starting to own the skill.

A lot of good and some truly exceptional knappers have passed on knowledge and experience to me and I have not forgotten my first days in the pit in New Jersey, my first teachers in knapping being Eddie Startnater and Billy McConnell, along with a cast of other volunteers and hang arounds at the TrackerSchool. I am still thankful for the friendly chiding of Bill Kazcor who got me to leave behind copper billets. And finally this year I found myself at Errett Callahan's in Lynchburg, VA, and saw first hand how meticulous and fine knapping could really be.  My progression has been slow, but steady. And each time I really push it. Each time I really drive forward with this skill, I find a new level to reach for.

After working systematically through 30 bifaces applying new techniques and dropping the ones that don't work for me, I put together a new system for myself. Now, I am producing work that, at least to me, is dramatically different. Edges are straighter, thinner, sharper, overall point thickness is reduced, flake scar patterns cleaner, surfaces smoother....

Knapping has been a long road for me so far. From my start at the Tracker School years ago, to mad dashes to the Glass Buttes in cars not meant to handle 500 lbs of obsidian, to years of personal trial and error learning, to moments with amazing knappers like Tim Dillard that opened my mind to new ways of looking at the skill, and finally, lately to hang with someone whose 50 years knapping and insane level of workmanship cannot be disputed. It has been long and fun, and there has been a lot of cursing mixed with important lessons.

Knapping has also opened my eyes to prehistoric timelines, geologic times lines, and a deeper understanding of what it means to live and work with stone tools. As my knapping has improved, and with the addition of pecking and grinding, stone tools have become a much more common part of the variety of other skills we work on at Roots. Being able to quickly produce fifteen hide scrapers for the children’s program students to use to scrape their rabbit hides with allowed us to test five different models of scrapers and settle on which ones we liked most.  For those planning to use stone tools to tan a rabbit pelt: (It turned out to be a semi scooped flake about the size of a big potato chip, with unifacially sharpened edges, tight flaking with small teeth left on, and one wide round side and one thinner, finger sized edge.)

            These understandings help me to connect my work in knapping into a more day to day understanding of the skill and its applications. The more I use stone tools, the more I understand how to make them so they will work well, and the more I understand the reality of being able to use them with just about any skills project. Steel tools can be faster in some cases, but the more I use stone tools the more I see how proper application can be just as efficient as, or even more efficient than their modern counter parts. Obviously this is not always the case, but the fact that it is the case even some of the time, was a revelation to me. Since then I have applied stone tools to a great many projects and found out a little secret. It is not that hard. Given good materials, and well made stone tools, it really is not that much different. Much of the primitive skills world is laboring under a different understanding and I think it hold us back. I love my steel tools, and ease and speed they allow, but often, that is not what it is about.