Read! 2019 Annual Meeting – Message from the Guildmaster – Feb. 2019

The 23rd Annual Horn Fair is March 1 & 2, 2019 so is time to get your reservations in for the 2019 Annual Meeting in Carlisle, Pennsylvania! Please do it now as we need an accurate headcount! Thanks. To make arrangements, click here.

Carl Dumke

A friend of mine, Joe-d Baxter, who is a new horner and just completed his first horn box.  He was so excited about his newfound ability that it sparked, or should I say re-sparked, me into wanting to get back into the shop.   That is what is so interesting about this art, hobby, obsession—call it what you will.  There is an innate connection for us in this material.  My friend’s horn box harkened me back to a time when I first joined the guild and made my first horn.  I was greener than the horn I was working on.  Armed with a few references, some sage advice from Jim Leach, and I was off. The horn dust seemed to just get everywhere and I swear it smelled like steak.  I am not sure my wife agreed, especially when it came to heating the horn in the house.  By the way, you can only do that once in the kitchen…

I worked diligently on that horn, not quite sure if it was going as planned, but felt I was making some progress.  When it was engraved and I was ready to add patina to the horn, I set it in front of a heat gun and turned away for “only a minute” only to turn back to be greeted by a scorch mark.  Panicked, I paced the floor.  The area on the horn shown like a beacon of failure!  Dejected, I turned everything off and went to contemplate on my blunder…

The next morning was a new day and I came to terms with my mistake.  There were no songbirds singing or flowers blooming.  Instead, it was a grey, foggy morning.  I was hoping this was not the visitation of the horners of old, haunting my day.  I put on a brave, but nervous face and set about “fixing” the damage.   With an intrepid hand, I took a sharp razor and set about scraping the area back.  So far, so good.  A little more smoothing and re-cutting my lines, and it was done.  Once the dye was applied, you could barely see the blunder. But I knew it was still there.

In the end, I still have that horn and take it out now and then… and smile.  This was the first of many lessons we all have as horners. There are many times we fail, but pull ourselves back into the light and press on.  Sometimes our “experiments” work, other times they are best left to the scrap bin.  We always make mistakes, but find ways to hide them or work around what the horn was trying to tell us.  The lesson is to keep pressing on and let inspiration take you to the new level—and never be afraid to push ourselves past our own preconceived expectation.  When I look at that horn, I am reminded that it is our mistakes that make us better.  In the end, it is also our fellow horners that push us to strive to improve.  Well done Joe-d.