Hauling a load of future didgeridoos several miles back to my truck.
I am a maker; I crave creating tangible things
Growing up on a houseboat on the San Francisco Bay that my parents built in the early 80's most definitely has sculpted my attitudes toward personal expression. In my early years my mother was a graphic designer and creative thinker and my father, a photographer, master woodworker and problem solver. The story line really is quite logical - as a little kid I was obsessed with taking things apart (what young boy isn't?) One day after dismantling an old hard drive, I decided to reattach the motor and belt to the fly wheel, glue on a piece of sandpaper, and present my father with my custom designed "axe sharpener" at around eight years old. His positively affirming response let me confidently dive headfirst into inventing and tinkering.
As a freshmen at University of Oregon I studied Architecture, then changed my major to Audio Technology, then took a break to deal with life circumstances. Several years later I decided to return to school, but complete my education studying Industrial Design - a discipline that's basically made for me. It is the intersection of creativity and function; a bridging of the gap of two polarized schools of thought. Industrial Design is problem solving through defining contextual relationships between often opposing or unrelated dynamics in order to evolve a seamless solution.
During my last few years of school I had the opportunity to travel to Peru for a month to participate in a retreat using a tea made from a sacred vine. In the jungle it's referred to as La Purga, and indeed does it induce purging, on all levels. I continued to work with this special medicine as I enthusiastically finished my education, and during a ceremony one night found myself experiencing a powerful spiritual-mental shift that began my quest to learn to play my all time childhood hero of an instrument, the didgeridoo, better than I could at that point.
In order to accomplish this new concept I first needed a better instrument, one which I would make for myself, of course. That first "real" didgeridoo I made to be my lifelong learning companion was a beautiful and total failure of an instrument. This presented the next challenge: learn how to make a didgeridoo that plays well and is beautiful. As I experimented and made new mistakes, I found myself moving forward quite effectively.
I began reaching out to people in the didgeridoo community to seek advice and guidance in both crafting and playing, and the genuine acceptance with which I was met is one of the most beautiful things I've ever encountered. As I continue to refine my crafting of didgeridoos and realize my own playing style, I will also continue to hold my understanding of didgeridoo tightly with the essence of community.