Birthing A Drum: The Ceremony Before The First Beat
The Ceremony of Birthing a Drum
When I sit with the materials to make a drum, I am sitting in ceremony.
I'm not simply envisioning the finished instrument. I'm sitting with the energy that these pieces want to create a vessel for. I'm sitting with the intention that has spoken to me, perhaps through a dream, a meditation, or a trance drumming session of my own.
I'm sitting with reverence for all the things that had to happen to bring these materials together in my hands.
That is where I create from.
I envision the work this drum will do, the people it will serve, the healing it will carry. Every bit of the drum supports that vision.

The Hide, the Frame, and the Lacing
Each material has its own role in the process, and I experience each one differently as I work.
The hide feels like the amniotic sac.
Full of possibilities and flexibility, waiting to become what it will be.
When the hide is soaked, it becomes soft and pliable. Something that was once rigid can be stretched, shaped, and brought into relationship with the other materials.
There is so much potential in that moment, before anything has taken its final form.
The frame feels like the bones.
It provides the structure that will hold everything together.
When I woodburn a frame, I use the smoke to carry the intention of the drum to the universe. Each mark becomes part of that intention, something carried within the instrument long after the smoke has disappeared.
The lacing feels like working with the soul.
Tethering the possibilities to the bones of this musical being.
As the lacing draws the hide and frame together, these separate materials begin to become something else.
Not quite a drum yet, though... It's not quite cooked.
For me, the materials begin to feel like a drum after the lacing is tied, while the hide is drying. There's a period of waiting as everything settles into its new relationship. After all, every transition comes with a waiting period.
And slowly, the instrument begins to emerge.

A Familiar Feeling
One of the things that surprised me most when I first began building drums was how natural it felt.
I had never built one before. In fact, my entire drum-building origin story is a little ridiculous, involving an unexpected calling, a trip to Sedona, and the perfectly reasonable decision to ship an entire deer hide across the country. [[You can read about all of that here.]]
But when I finally sat down to make my first drum, I felt guided.
There was a deep knowingness that this was something I was supposed to be doing... and every time I build another drum, I am reminded of that feeling.

An Invitation to Make Something Meaningful
This is why I love guiding other people through building their own drums.
Of course, someone can purchase a finished drum. There are beautiful instruments made by skilled craftspeople all over the world. I make them too. It's a very enjoyable process!
But there is something different about knowing the materials yourself.
Knowing the hide. Knowing the frame. Knowing the lacing.
Knowing the relationship and the individuality of it all, and connecting with each piece yourself.
I want people to experience that relationship as it develops beneath their own hands.
I want them to trust that the drum they are making is just right for them, right now, because they created it.
Not because it looks exactly like someone else's drum. Not because every part of the process unfolded according to plan. Not because it sounds a certain way.
It is just right for them because they were there for its becoming.
Because they participated in bringing these materials together, with their own intentions, their own creativity, their own messages, and their own way of experiencing the process.
Because birthing a drum is a process of curating relationship with the object as much as it is creating the object itself.
I want people to feel the stirring of the magic in the mundane... to experience what it feels like to make creativity into a ceremonial practice... and to discover what might emerge when they give themselves permission to create from that place.
Before the first beat is ever played, there is already a story.
And for me, that story is part of the drum.
If you're interested in creating a drum of your own, you can find more about the workshop and register here!
