I can relate to your story in several ways. As a professional jewelry artist for 37 years I experienced most of what you are writing so eloquently about. However there is one major difference, it was my livelihood. I started almost by accident as an engraver in ivory (scrimshaw) only because a friend offered me an opportunity to try one, I soon discovered I was good at it and liked it. I made good money at this art form for a few years. I found a state of mind I had rarely experienced before, only in making music. I found when etching scrimshaw the world would disappear and I would be lost in the work. Is that mindfulness? I’m not sure but is a state I found myself in often for the next 30 something years. After a few years of etching scrimshaw on ivory I realized as an environmentalist I couldn’t be part of the ivory trade even though I only worked on it and had no part in acquiring it from the source. I quit cold leaving some Nantucket basket weavers angry as they depended on my work to adorn their $3000 baskets. I had thankfully already become proficient in working with Gold and Silver. I thoroughly enjoyed the creative process, the intellectual process of creating tools and simple machinery unique to my needs. However the meditative state I once entered in the beginning of my short scrimshaw career was fleeting as this jewelry became a business and a business that I was building and had a lot of competition. During this time in my still creative career I became focused on making money and staying afloat. Sure I received praise and recognition and enjoyed the income and occasionally was pleased with a single piece of jewelry, but it could be stressful with gallery deadlines, employees, preparing for shows that could be responsible half my year’s income. I found I had become a human jewelry machine and it was stressful. It was then that I started a meditation practice although not a serious practitioner or devout Buddhist I found some relief and escape. As a result of this I realized the contrast in mindfulness and my work. I knew I needed to make some changes and slowed things down. I started hiking more, long distance bicycling, running, fasting and eating a more plant based diet. I wasn’t experiencing these changes to affect my relationship with my work but only as a relief from my work. However I found my work changing from producing production pieces that galleries expected of me to individual one off pieces that meant something to me. I realized my pieces could reflect who I was on a deeper level. I started using beach stones. And had the experience while walking the beach looking for humble ocean tumbled gems looking down the almost infinite beach that Mother Earth was providing me with a never ending supply of stones. My work was leading me to the beach and an occasional swim. Mother Earth was also providing me with my gold and silver although not as directly. As I was making some of these new found pieces to my surprise I would intellectually disappear during the process. To put it simply I would have an idea in mind, sit at my bench and perhaps hours later I would emerge from this creative meditation with a beautiful piece of jewelry sitting on my bench before me. I see that process as abandoning my active mind and becoming oblivious to my surroundings and being so mindfully focused i would barely have a memory of it. I had returned back to the once naive, pure infant of an artist I was when I started.
How magical, sitting in a basement of my rented duplex I became enlightened if only in a limited way. This experience didn’t visit me on every piece I made going forth but on many. I had acquired a new sense of confidence, peace and joy in my work. I found a new clientele who bought my work because they could feel it not just see or want it. I’ve retired from my jewelry career but the meditative emersion of creativity visited me often in the later years of my career. This state still envelopes me often when I do other art forms of art including my passion for wildlife photography and as I’ve written in another comment on this blog, sometimes that state takes over to the point that I drift from the camera to the environment around me and I forget I’m a photographer and become a being present now in my wooded surroundings.
I still don’t have a traditional meditation practice but consciously or unconsciously I remind myself “just this” from time to time
A note to Artists:
As experienced artists I expect you might know what I’m talking about.
For new artists I recommend, sitting with your materials in front of you, accepting that no one else has to ever see your work, suspend expectations of yourself and sit there, when your mind drifts gently remind yourself “just art” as ideas emerge act on them, if no ideas emerge well you have just meditated! Repeat process.
I recognize that feeling of disappearing in the work very well. Your comments put me in mind of the woodworker James Krenov: "...you are alive with your work and yourself, and I think that one of the important points to keep you going is that you enjoy it—not hobby enjoyment or periodic enjoyment, but the enjoyment of BEING with it."
Thanks for you comments, Doug, and thanks for reading!
I had a good friend who quit her high paying job at HP to become a luthier. She was as successful as one can expect to be I suppose. She is no longer with us on this planet, but her instruments are. Whenever I see something about luthiers, I feel compelled to read it. I have to say, this is the most engaging story yet.
Thank you so much for taking the time to comment, catharine. That was brave and admirable of your friend to make that career change. It's not easy to make such a choice!
You got that right. It cost her a long term relationship and financial security. But it was her passion and she pursued it which is, as you said, brave and admirable.
I feel like the wisdom of the beginner's mind is in being able to find that state even as an expert, that sense of infinite potential, receptive to whatever lessons we encounter, that willingness to have another go even after we stumble - it's about the expert transcending their identity as an expert and willing to be a fool again.
Experts think they know it all. Masters are innocent beginners with a finely tuned skill and consciousness that is usually humble and delightful to be around.
Two things stood out for me here. First, taking a moment to listen to the birds and watch the dappled sunlight when we are in the midst of deep focus (especially if it is frustrated focus). The birds were singing and the sunlight was dappling as I read that. The second was what we have to prove. It's now been almost a year since I did my last paid music gig, and honestly I don't miss it. I was offered a gig a few weeks ago, and as I thought about it stressors came into my mind—will I be good enough, who else will I be playing with, what are the anomalies of the venue, where will I park. At this moment in time, it isn't worth it. I'd rather have my own private experience with music—in my head, noodling out some ideas, or maybe a little recording.
Thank you, Bert. Your comments actually help me to feel better about my evolving but often transient deep dives into various creative pursuits. Experience's ultimate aim must not be money or recognition or permanence, but experience itself. May we all honor "noodling."
I'm not a luthier. But my 18yo son is trying his hand at it. He's building his first (and maybe last) electric guitar out of scrap wood and mostly found or vintage parts. He has used only hand tools and using YouTube videos to learn how. He has injured himself, poked a whole through the front while trying to carve out space in the back for the pickup electrical components. I think there have been many moments where he's wondered why he started this. Just as I have wondered many times why I had so many kids. My dream definitely didn't include so many dirty diapers, PB&J sandwiches, and boring confidence children's books. But seeing my firstborn start realizing his own dreams makes me glad I have 3 more to raise to this point!
I am one of eight. I have two, but at least two of my siblings have four, so I hear you! Wonderful that your son is trying his hand at creating something for himself. Tough to do it with no woodworking experience (but he must get some tool-use genes from his dad). Here on Cape Cod we have a former shop teacher who inspired many generations of teens by offering a guitar-building course at the local high school (and he is one of my subscribers!)
He actually has some woodworking experience, picture framing with my dad. His dad is a plant person, but my family has many tinkerers and makers so it's definitely in his genes! I had a great shop teacher in middle school. Loved the jigsaw!!
My husband plays the guitelele; my son the uke. I had never even thought building them was something individual artisans did...how cool! I'm inspired! What made you want to start the journey?
I've always worked with wood, as a carpenter and amateur woodworker, and I knew that building guitars was a thing. One day I was sitting on a bench in Keene, New Hampshire, and the idea suddenly came into my head like a message from above and I knew I had to do it. I started my first guitar right in my studio apartment.
My time limited today and I could say so much more, but:
-Thank you for your work /post /followers and esp. your pics to illustrate. Through all, I learned a lot, including I learned 2 new words, “luthier” & “dreadnought” that I must still look up, & about a new part of the musical world. And your work is beautiful, including on the inside of the instruments.
-A lot of what you’ve written is universal to all creative arts and mirrors some of my experiences as an artist, photographer, writer, avid “techie” starting in 1968’s with mainframes doing “Snoopy” pics with “x’s & “0’s” . (>More than 60 years’ experience but as a hobby until 11 years ago when I doubled down to produce “inventory” after I determined to combine all prior experiences & knowledge in the “old fashioned non-digital space” and apply it to digital photography on iPads and iPhones.)
And now as I continue to wind down my almost 50 years in a career as as a lawyer, I’m redoubling my planning and efforts to make a living as a digital artist and photographer. (I never continued formally as an artist /photographer “back then” because I didn’t think I could make a living; now I think I can.)
-I’d be interested to know more about “the wood”, including about which kinds produce better sound, which are harder to find, whether different ages of the trees matter, or ages of the wood once not part of the tree, whether wood that’s the “same” as wood you’ve used before sound different than the same wood from different geography and /or age, and whether you’ve used “repurposed wood”, such as from furniture.
-Would different types of wood be better than others depending upon the style of music to be played? I ask because of sheer curiosity having tried to learn Spanish guitar at age 13 -side comment, and a girl. Had I stuck with guitar at all, I would have asked to change to jazz guitar and tried a different guitar given several facts: I stopped because my fingers were always hurting /even bleeding sometimes with steel strings, my teacher was not very good with me and we had no rapport DESPITE that he was “Bill D’Arango” famous jazz guitarist *!, AND given that I was also learning jazz piano /Boogie Woogie!
* Cleveland, OH (Actually, a suburb, “University Heights”) early-mid 60’s can’t remember exactly, but albums might have been $1.98 or $4.98 and I don’t remember having been aware electric guitars at that point. Mr. D was working out of a tiny private music shop in a strip mall and they had 2 “listening booths”.
-In any event, I’m looking forward to reading /learning more from you!
Hello, Phyllis, and thank you for reading and for all the time you've put in here. Those are some very big question lol, and one could write a book answering them. The short answer to at least one of them is that yes, the different woods produce different sounds. A luthier is a builder of stringed instruments—luthiers experiment with different woods but within parameters and historical/scientific findings. Backs and sides of guitars have a much greater range, thought you will find lots of mahogany and rosewood. Tops, the part that vibrates and amplifies the sound, are made of only a few different materials, all of them softwood, not hardwood. The main material is spruce and sometimes cedar. These are light and stiff and sustain the vibration of the strings.
If I had stayed with guitar building longer I had big plans to work with all kinds of different woods because trees and wood are one of my favorite things. If you read more of my essays you will see a lot of mention of trees; walking amongst them, talking with them, learning life lessons from them.
Thank you again for being here and I look forward to hearing from you again!
Thank you for the info! 😍Have a great Valentine’s Day from your new fan. (Also I was surprised to learn that there’s so much interest in the Luthier World that there are organized local groups.)
P. S. Has your name always been “Boivin”, and how do you pronounce it ? Here’s why I asked: From Collins Onljne ductionart,”
“NOUN-
le bois masc (timber, forest)
It’s made of wood. C’est en bois.
We went for a walk in the wood. Nous sommes allés nous promener dans le bois.”
——-
I started learning French at 8; lived there for a semester as a high school student. Am pretty lousy at it and other foreign languages [and math] because of a weird dyslexic syndrome, but I might have learned enough to add this question!
You know, that's amazing, I never made the connection to bois for wood! My name is actually from the French "drink" (boire) and "wine" (vin). So it should be pronounced bwah-vahn, but my family has always pronounced it Bo-vin.
Wow! A “cosmic” answer from you with both yours and my thinking floating out there in the ether, both connected to French, and maybe both connected to your personal life! (And equally as interesting, that you already knew what your last name meant. )
And now, my first name, coincidentally, has an interesting and cosmically-connected meaning:
“foliage” in Greek and one Greek mythology behind the name that a woman in the 16th Century killed herself out of love and was transformed into an almond tree. (I’ve also heard that it meant “leafy green bough” in Greek.)
As for my name per my family: I was named after my grandfather Phillip —as was my cousin Phil within the year of my birth—who died when piloting his plane and ran it or it ran into—a mountain.
“Beginners like me can get starry-eyed about our new careers. We finish our first or second instrument, then rush right out to print business cards and design our websites, as if being a student is something to get over with as quickly as possible” are a couple of the wisest insights I’ve ever read.
Thank you so much, Trish, and thank you for reading all my writings. I really appreciate your support. Writing essays in college was always so thoroughly absorbing and engaging; I was just... happy, when creating these small works that another supporter calls "shining a mindful light on our shared experiences."
I think you'll like next week's post. It's about my first job as a stock-boy at Woolworth's (and aging and death and civil rights and....)
Hoo boy, does your post ( blog, essay, missive, what the heck do you call these kinds of submissions?) hit home for me!
I was working as the assistant director at a residential school for very troubled kids, going to graduate school and married with three tiny kids. My beloved cheepie guitar finally died and I needed something to play ( the guitar being my best friend, and stress relief all through high school and the Navy) . I found another sears yard sale guitar, took it apart, and said to myself: “I can build one of these! “ As luck would have it, there was a small arts/crafts section in the library directly beside the psychology section, and in it was a a book on building an acoustic guitar! I took that book out so many times, the librarian finally said” why don’t you just go buy a copy! Which I did.
My dad had some hand tools and I scraped up the almost unattainable sum of about 75 bucks, and I bought some guitar woods . A year later, my first guitar was born. Heavy as a boat anchor, but sounding better than the cheapie plywood acoustics that were everywhere in the late 70’s . No matter, the addiction was firmly planted. 40+ years later, I’m still trying to build a better one than the last one.
So what have I learned in 40+ years of building fancy boxes with strings attached? A lot that paralells what you wrote about, Don.
* the shop is my safe haven.
*I don’t particularly care for dreads. Smaller bodied folk guitars are what I love building and surprisingly, ukes. I’ve also taken a liking to classicals and am about to dip my toes in that pond.
*for a very brief period of time, I toyed with going full time as a builder. But after a lot of reflection, I realized that I have no interest in the business end of things and I stink at business. I tried my hand at production building and I’m not wired like that. In fact, I don’t do commisions because I want to buid what I want to build. There are always going to be people who fall in love with something I made.
* I’m happiest in my shop. Music going, planes and chisels humming. I gave up building basses because it was a lot of power tool noise and dust flying and the creative part had mostly left the building. With acoustic instruments, it’s always a creative challenge . I’m starting to get the hang of it.
* I’m happiest building instruments that the average person can afford and enjoy. Yes, I have some boutique woods in my stash, but that’s the dessert, and as we all know, dessert should be a once in a while treat.
* I’m even happier when I can give something I built away to someone ….when they least expect it.
* I’m a just ok instrument builder, and I’m fine with that. I have no interest in trying to become “the guy” who can command 10’s of thousands of dollars for an instrument.( see crappy businessperson note) But what I am is one hell of a good teacher and having had the opportunity to help hundreds of kids and a few adults build something special fills my heart with joy.
Karl, thank you so much for sharing. You are indeed an inspiration and a legacy on Cape Cod. Your reputation preceeded our introduction, as I kept hearing from your proud former students and their parents about how much you helped them to realize their own power, efficacy, and self-worth. Your outlook is enlightened and inspiring!
Came here expecting a cool piece about guitar building. Did not expect to read that AND a beautifully written commentary on the concept of "the beginner's mind," as well as a cool peek into the maybe-romanticized industry of a luthier. Nor did I expect a wrestling with the question of, "why am I doing what I'm doing? What - exactly - is my motivation?" You've given me a lot to muse on.
Great points here - I am most engaged by the tension between refining your craft and maintaining that naive sense of possibility. I've never thought of it that way before and it's intriguing :)
Well, I guess I would say that no matter how far along we are in our progress toward mastery, we can still nurture that beginner's sense of possibility. It's not really as if we're leaving something innocent behind that we can never enjoy again. This essay may be geared toward newcomers to a particular creative endeavor but the lesson is one to use throughout life. Even the master can find that childlike quality of wonder in the next project. Can feel the fresh life and beauty of her material again and again.
But I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir, Sydney. Your musings on the reflection in a dew drop or the attitude of a bird, the way a child observes a shell on the beach, show a freshness and aliveness completely absent of road-wear or loss of innocence and wonder. 🩷🙂
Wow. Tough choices. Good for her
I can relate to your story in several ways. As a professional jewelry artist for 37 years I experienced most of what you are writing so eloquently about. However there is one major difference, it was my livelihood. I started almost by accident as an engraver in ivory (scrimshaw) only because a friend offered me an opportunity to try one, I soon discovered I was good at it and liked it. I made good money at this art form for a few years. I found a state of mind I had rarely experienced before, only in making music. I found when etching scrimshaw the world would disappear and I would be lost in the work. Is that mindfulness? I’m not sure but is a state I found myself in often for the next 30 something years. After a few years of etching scrimshaw on ivory I realized as an environmentalist I couldn’t be part of the ivory trade even though I only worked on it and had no part in acquiring it from the source. I quit cold leaving some Nantucket basket weavers angry as they depended on my work to adorn their $3000 baskets. I had thankfully already become proficient in working with Gold and Silver. I thoroughly enjoyed the creative process, the intellectual process of creating tools and simple machinery unique to my needs. However the meditative state I once entered in the beginning of my short scrimshaw career was fleeting as this jewelry became a business and a business that I was building and had a lot of competition. During this time in my still creative career I became focused on making money and staying afloat. Sure I received praise and recognition and enjoyed the income and occasionally was pleased with a single piece of jewelry, but it could be stressful with gallery deadlines, employees, preparing for shows that could be responsible half my year’s income. I found I had become a human jewelry machine and it was stressful. It was then that I started a meditation practice although not a serious practitioner or devout Buddhist I found some relief and escape. As a result of this I realized the contrast in mindfulness and my work. I knew I needed to make some changes and slowed things down. I started hiking more, long distance bicycling, running, fasting and eating a more plant based diet. I wasn’t experiencing these changes to affect my relationship with my work but only as a relief from my work. However I found my work changing from producing production pieces that galleries expected of me to individual one off pieces that meant something to me. I realized my pieces could reflect who I was on a deeper level. I started using beach stones. And had the experience while walking the beach looking for humble ocean tumbled gems looking down the almost infinite beach that Mother Earth was providing me with a never ending supply of stones. My work was leading me to the beach and an occasional swim. Mother Earth was also providing me with my gold and silver although not as directly. As I was making some of these new found pieces to my surprise I would intellectually disappear during the process. To put it simply I would have an idea in mind, sit at my bench and perhaps hours later I would emerge from this creative meditation with a beautiful piece of jewelry sitting on my bench before me. I see that process as abandoning my active mind and becoming oblivious to my surroundings and being so mindfully focused i would barely have a memory of it. I had returned back to the once naive, pure infant of an artist I was when I started.
How magical, sitting in a basement of my rented duplex I became enlightened if only in a limited way. This experience didn’t visit me on every piece I made going forth but on many. I had acquired a new sense of confidence, peace and joy in my work. I found a new clientele who bought my work because they could feel it not just see or want it. I’ve retired from my jewelry career but the meditative emersion of creativity visited me often in the later years of my career. This state still envelopes me often when I do other art forms of art including my passion for wildlife photography and as I’ve written in another comment on this blog, sometimes that state takes over to the point that I drift from the camera to the environment around me and I forget I’m a photographer and become a being present now in my wooded surroundings.
I still don’t have a traditional meditation practice but consciously or unconsciously I remind myself “just this” from time to time
A note to Artists:
As experienced artists I expect you might know what I’m talking about.
For new artists I recommend, sitting with your materials in front of you, accepting that no one else has to ever see your work, suspend expectations of yourself and sit there, when your mind drifts gently remind yourself “just art” as ideas emerge act on them, if no ideas emerge well you have just meditated! Repeat process.
Just a suggestion.
I recognize that feeling of disappearing in the work very well. Your comments put me in mind of the woodworker James Krenov: "...you are alive with your work and yourself, and I think that one of the important points to keep you going is that you enjoy it—not hobby enjoyment or periodic enjoyment, but the enjoyment of BEING with it."
Thanks for you comments, Doug, and thanks for reading!
Beautiful story. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, David 🙏
I had a good friend who quit her high paying job at HP to become a luthier. She was as successful as one can expect to be I suppose. She is no longer with us on this planet, but her instruments are. Whenever I see something about luthiers, I feel compelled to read it. I have to say, this is the most engaging story yet.
Thank you so much for taking the time to comment, catharine. That was brave and admirable of your friend to make that career change. It's not easy to make such a choice!
You got that right. It cost her a long term relationship and financial security. But it was her passion and she pursued it which is, as you said, brave and admirable.
I feel like the wisdom of the beginner's mind is in being able to find that state even as an expert, that sense of infinite potential, receptive to whatever lessons we encounter, that willingness to have another go even after we stumble - it's about the expert transcending their identity as an expert and willing to be a fool again.
I love the guitars...
Hey, thank you, John! Well put. That is a good point, taking my pondering a step further. Thank you!
And glad to have you here!
^ "it's about the expert transcending their identity as an expert and willing to be a fool again."
Love !!
Experts think they know it all. Masters are innocent beginners with a finely tuned skill and consciousness that is usually humble and delightful to be around.
Very well said!
Thanks, David!
Two things stood out for me here. First, taking a moment to listen to the birds and watch the dappled sunlight when we are in the midst of deep focus (especially if it is frustrated focus). The birds were singing and the sunlight was dappling as I read that. The second was what we have to prove. It's now been almost a year since I did my last paid music gig, and honestly I don't miss it. I was offered a gig a few weeks ago, and as I thought about it stressors came into my mind—will I be good enough, who else will I be playing with, what are the anomalies of the venue, where will I park. At this moment in time, it isn't worth it. I'd rather have my own private experience with music—in my head, noodling out some ideas, or maybe a little recording.
Thank you, Bert. Your comments actually help me to feel better about my evolving but often transient deep dives into various creative pursuits. Experience's ultimate aim must not be money or recognition or permanence, but experience itself. May we all honor "noodling."
Well done my friend. I love reading your posts. I always take something away from your writings.
You are truly blessed with many talents.
Thanks, Bill. :-)
I'm not a luthier. But my 18yo son is trying his hand at it. He's building his first (and maybe last) electric guitar out of scrap wood and mostly found or vintage parts. He has used only hand tools and using YouTube videos to learn how. He has injured himself, poked a whole through the front while trying to carve out space in the back for the pickup electrical components. I think there have been many moments where he's wondered why he started this. Just as I have wondered many times why I had so many kids. My dream definitely didn't include so many dirty diapers, PB&J sandwiches, and boring confidence children's books. But seeing my firstborn start realizing his own dreams makes me glad I have 3 more to raise to this point!
I am one of eight. I have two, but at least two of my siblings have four, so I hear you! Wonderful that your son is trying his hand at creating something for himself. Tough to do it with no woodworking experience (but he must get some tool-use genes from his dad). Here on Cape Cod we have a former shop teacher who inspired many generations of teens by offering a guitar-building course at the local high school (and he is one of my subscribers!)
He actually has some woodworking experience, picture framing with my dad. His dad is a plant person, but my family has many tinkerers and makers so it's definitely in his genes! I had a great shop teacher in middle school. Loved the jigsaw!!
Sorry, that was a thoughtless assumption about your son's woodworking experience! I wish him the best. :-)
It's no problem at all! Thank you!
Lol "I have wondered many time why I had so many kids"
My husband plays the guitelele; my son the uke. I had never even thought building them was something individual artisans did...how cool! I'm inspired! What made you want to start the journey?
I've always worked with wood, as a carpenter and amateur woodworker, and I knew that building guitars was a thing. One day I was sitting on a bench in Keene, New Hampshire, and the idea suddenly came into my head like a message from above and I knew I had to do it. I started my first guitar right in my studio apartment.
Brilliant!
My time limited today and I could say so much more, but:
-Thank you for your work /post /followers and esp. your pics to illustrate. Through all, I learned a lot, including I learned 2 new words, “luthier” & “dreadnought” that I must still look up, & about a new part of the musical world. And your work is beautiful, including on the inside of the instruments.
-A lot of what you’ve written is universal to all creative arts and mirrors some of my experiences as an artist, photographer, writer, avid “techie” starting in 1968’s with mainframes doing “Snoopy” pics with “x’s & “0’s” . (>More than 60 years’ experience but as a hobby until 11 years ago when I doubled down to produce “inventory” after I determined to combine all prior experiences & knowledge in the “old fashioned non-digital space” and apply it to digital photography on iPads and iPhones.)
And now as I continue to wind down my almost 50 years in a career as as a lawyer, I’m redoubling my planning and efforts to make a living as a digital artist and photographer. (I never continued formally as an artist /photographer “back then” because I didn’t think I could make a living; now I think I can.)
-I’d be interested to know more about “the wood”, including about which kinds produce better sound, which are harder to find, whether different ages of the trees matter, or ages of the wood once not part of the tree, whether wood that’s the “same” as wood you’ve used before sound different than the same wood from different geography and /or age, and whether you’ve used “repurposed wood”, such as from furniture.
-Would different types of wood be better than others depending upon the style of music to be played? I ask because of sheer curiosity having tried to learn Spanish guitar at age 13 -side comment, and a girl. Had I stuck with guitar at all, I would have asked to change to jazz guitar and tried a different guitar given several facts: I stopped because my fingers were always hurting /even bleeding sometimes with steel strings, my teacher was not very good with me and we had no rapport DESPITE that he was “Bill D’Arango” famous jazz guitarist *!, AND given that I was also learning jazz piano /Boogie Woogie!
* Cleveland, OH (Actually, a suburb, “University Heights”) early-mid 60’s can’t remember exactly, but albums might have been $1.98 or $4.98 and I don’t remember having been aware electric guitars at that point. Mr. D was working out of a tiny private music shop in a strip mall and they had 2 “listening booths”.
-In any event, I’m looking forward to reading /learning more from you!
Hello, Phyllis, and thank you for reading and for all the time you've put in here. Those are some very big question lol, and one could write a book answering them. The short answer to at least one of them is that yes, the different woods produce different sounds. A luthier is a builder of stringed instruments—luthiers experiment with different woods but within parameters and historical/scientific findings. Backs and sides of guitars have a much greater range, thought you will find lots of mahogany and rosewood. Tops, the part that vibrates and amplifies the sound, are made of only a few different materials, all of them softwood, not hardwood. The main material is spruce and sometimes cedar. These are light and stiff and sustain the vibration of the strings.
If I had stayed with guitar building longer I had big plans to work with all kinds of different woods because trees and wood are one of my favorite things. If you read more of my essays you will see a lot of mention of trees; walking amongst them, talking with them, learning life lessons from them.
Thank you again for being here and I look forward to hearing from you again!
Thank you for the info! 😍Have a great Valentine’s Day from your new fan. (Also I was surprised to learn that there’s so much interest in the Luthier World that there are organized local groups.)
P. S. Has your name always been “Boivin”, and how do you pronounce it ? Here’s why I asked: From Collins Onljne ductionart,”
“NOUN-
le bois masc (timber, forest)
It’s made of wood. C’est en bois.
We went for a walk in the wood. Nous sommes allés nous promener dans le bois.”
——-
I started learning French at 8; lived there for a semester as a high school student. Am pretty lousy at it and other foreign languages [and math] because of a weird dyslexic syndrome, but I might have learned enough to add this question!
Also, how do you pronounce your last name?
“Online ductionart” should be “dictionary”…
You know, that's amazing, I never made the connection to bois for wood! My name is actually from the French "drink" (boire) and "wine" (vin). So it should be pronounced bwah-vahn, but my family has always pronounced it Bo-vin.
Wow! A “cosmic” answer from you with both yours and my thinking floating out there in the ether, both connected to French, and maybe both connected to your personal life! (And equally as interesting, that you already knew what your last name meant. )
And now, my first name, coincidentally, has an interesting and cosmically-connected meaning:
https://www.behindthename.com/name/phyllis
“foliage” in Greek and one Greek mythology behind the name that a woman in the 16th Century killed herself out of love and was transformed into an almond tree. (I’ve also heard that it meant “leafy green bough” in Greek.)
As for my name per my family: I was named after my grandfather Phillip —as was my cousin Phil within the year of my birth—who died when piloting his plane and ran it or it ran into—a mountain.
Great article, very well written!
Thank you, I really appreciate that!
“Beginners like me can get starry-eyed about our new careers. We finish our first or second instrument, then rush right out to print business cards and design our websites, as if being a student is something to get over with as quickly as possible” are a couple of the wisest insights I’ve ever read.
Thank you so much, Trish, and thank you for reading all my writings. I really appreciate your support. Writing essays in college was always so thoroughly absorbing and engaging; I was just... happy, when creating these small works that another supporter calls "shining a mindful light on our shared experiences."
I think you'll like next week's post. It's about my first job as a stock-boy at Woolworth's (and aging and death and civil rights and....)
Hoo boy, does your post ( blog, essay, missive, what the heck do you call these kinds of submissions?) hit home for me!
I was working as the assistant director at a residential school for very troubled kids, going to graduate school and married with three tiny kids. My beloved cheepie guitar finally died and I needed something to play ( the guitar being my best friend, and stress relief all through high school and the Navy) . I found another sears yard sale guitar, took it apart, and said to myself: “I can build one of these! “ As luck would have it, there was a small arts/crafts section in the library directly beside the psychology section, and in it was a a book on building an acoustic guitar! I took that book out so many times, the librarian finally said” why don’t you just go buy a copy! Which I did.
My dad had some hand tools and I scraped up the almost unattainable sum of about 75 bucks, and I bought some guitar woods . A year later, my first guitar was born. Heavy as a boat anchor, but sounding better than the cheapie plywood acoustics that were everywhere in the late 70’s . No matter, the addiction was firmly planted. 40+ years later, I’m still trying to build a better one than the last one.
So what have I learned in 40+ years of building fancy boxes with strings attached? A lot that paralells what you wrote about, Don.
* the shop is my safe haven.
*I don’t particularly care for dreads. Smaller bodied folk guitars are what I love building and surprisingly, ukes. I’ve also taken a liking to classicals and am about to dip my toes in that pond.
*for a very brief period of time, I toyed with going full time as a builder. But after a lot of reflection, I realized that I have no interest in the business end of things and I stink at business. I tried my hand at production building and I’m not wired like that. In fact, I don’t do commisions because I want to buid what I want to build. There are always going to be people who fall in love with something I made.
* I’m happiest in my shop. Music going, planes and chisels humming. I gave up building basses because it was a lot of power tool noise and dust flying and the creative part had mostly left the building. With acoustic instruments, it’s always a creative challenge . I’m starting to get the hang of it.
* I’m happiest building instruments that the average person can afford and enjoy. Yes, I have some boutique woods in my stash, but that’s the dessert, and as we all know, dessert should be a once in a while treat.
* I’m even happier when I can give something I built away to someone ….when they least expect it.
* I’m a just ok instrument builder, and I’m fine with that. I have no interest in trying to become “the guy” who can command 10’s of thousands of dollars for an instrument.( see crappy businessperson note) But what I am is one hell of a good teacher and having had the opportunity to help hundreds of kids and a few adults build something special fills my heart with joy.
Thanks for your thoughts and candor, Don
Karl, thank you so much for sharing. You are indeed an inspiration and a legacy on Cape Cod. Your reputation preceeded our introduction, as I kept hearing from your proud former students and their parents about how much you helped them to realize their own power, efficacy, and self-worth. Your outlook is enlightened and inspiring!
You’re too kind, sir
Wonderful writing. I can relate to a lot of it. 💕
Thanks, Jennifer!
Came here expecting a cool piece about guitar building. Did not expect to read that AND a beautifully written commentary on the concept of "the beginner's mind," as well as a cool peek into the maybe-romanticized industry of a luthier. Nor did I expect a wrestling with the question of, "why am I doing what I'm doing? What - exactly - is my motivation?" You've given me a lot to muse on.
Whoa, hope I didn't fry your brain haha!
Really, I'm very grateful that you read this, and glad to have you aboard! Thanks, Niki!
Oh, not at all. I love devouring a good piece and being taken for a surprising ride along the way!
Beautiful article, Don. Has given me a lot to think about. I need to ponder on this a little bit..
Great points here - I am most engaged by the tension between refining your craft and maintaining that naive sense of possibility. I've never thought of it that way before and it's intriguing :)
Thanks, Sydney!
Well, I guess I would say that no matter how far along we are in our progress toward mastery, we can still nurture that beginner's sense of possibility. It's not really as if we're leaving something innocent behind that we can never enjoy again. This essay may be geared toward newcomers to a particular creative endeavor but the lesson is one to use throughout life. Even the master can find that childlike quality of wonder in the next project. Can feel the fresh life and beauty of her material again and again.
But I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir, Sydney. Your musings on the reflection in a dew drop or the attitude of a bird, the way a child observes a shell on the beach, show a freshness and aliveness completely absent of road-wear or loss of innocence and wonder. 🩷🙂
So true! We do have to remind ourselves, though, don't we? Such a simple truth, so easy to lose sight of... :)
Yes, yes, we do! :-)